Jaune d'Arc
by xolef225
Summary: Jaune had always looked up to his big sister. She was smart, kind and strong; she was the kind of person that could change the world. Now, it was up to him to change the world in her place. He would carry Luminosité Éternelle and the burdens that came with it.
1. We all start somewhere, right?

(A/N) After so many years away from this site, I'm back. This will be pretty far removed from the last RWBY crossover I wrote (it really _has _been a while, huh) but I like the direction I'm taking it for the most part.

Until I find the motivation to _rewrite _my older stories, they won't be touched. In the meantime, I wrote a good chunk of this bad boy right here, along with a separate Fairy Tail fic I put up earlier today. Neither will have a set update time until further notice but expect the following chapter to be up soon(ish). It is already _written_ at the time of me typing this message.

Hope you enjoy!

XX

I wasn't one to play with my food, but I couldn't help doing so as I was lost in my own thoughts. I could tell that mom and dad were _trying_ to pretend they didn't notice, but their efforts to mask their concern for me were poor, to say the least. Frankly, of the ten of us at the table, only Jaune was oblivious to it all. From the corner of my eye I could see my little brother dig into his delicious homecooked meal with gusto.

"Jeanne, honey, tell me what's wrong," mom called out to me. I guess she decided it was time to address the elephant in the room.

I let the food fall off my fork, as I stopped twirling the utensil uselessly between my fingers. I looked at mom, but I didn't have the emotional strength to look her in the eyes right now. I settled for staring at her forehead.

"It's… Professor Ozpin, I guess." My voice felt soft. Well, softer than usual, rather.

Dad placed his hands on the dining room table. Tilting his head in a shooing motion, he called out, "Let's go, kids, your mom needs to have a talk with your sister. It's your turn to do the dishes tonight, Saphron."

"But daaaaaad," she drawled, but a pointed look shut her up. Eventually, it was only mom and I left in the room.

Once we were alone, she quirked her brow, letting me know that was my cue to speak my mind. I felt my fingers curl around and clench the hem of my skirt.

"I'm fine doing these missions for the headmaster, really. I–" I forced my hands to relax, letting them fall slack at my sides, "I _like_ that I'm able to make a difference in the world. A real difference. It's just that he… he told me that I'm a candidate to be the next fall maiden since _she _won't be with us for much longer."

My mom got up from her spot at the table across from mine, and relocated herself to the one next to me. She took my hand in hers.

"Sweetie, I know you're scared. _I'm_ scared for you too. But for all of Ozpin's duties and eccentricities, I'm sure he has your wellbeing in mind. If he chose you, it's because he thinks you can handle it. And if not," she pulled me into an awkward side-hug, "you'll always be able to rely on your parents, no matter how _old and rusty_ we get."

The humour in her voice at the end helped to calm my nerves. Despite the big decision ahead of me, I smiled.

XX

Mom and dad were out on a mission again. Being professional huntsmen themselves, it didn't surprise me all that much, but it would've been nice to have a little heads up. I they left me was a note I found this morning, and instructions to look after my siblings for the weekend.

_At least Professor Ozpin decided that he'd give me a break for a few weeks. It wouldn't do to leave my siblings alone for more than a few hours._

I loved my siblings, really, but sometimes they were… rambunctious, to say the least.

Speak of the devil, my precious little brother was staring at me with a sparkly smile which I'm sure is reserved just for me. The kid smiles plenty, but I can tell there's a little something extra in his eyes when he's with his "dear big sis".

He's adorable.

"Hey, Jeanne! Can you teach me how to fight like you? Pleeaaaaseee….."

Adorable, but a bit of a satellite.

"Now, Jaune," I crouched to meet him at eye level, "you know that dad wouldn't like that. He would be very angry if I'm teaching my kid brother dangerous things, right?"

It wasn't anything against Jaune personally. Dad didn't want _any _of his kids to be huntsmen after what I got myself into with the professor. As much as he tries to hide it, I can tell that the thought of me getting hurt really scares him, and he doesn't want that worry to spread thin over seven other heads.

"C'mon, no fair! Why can't I be a cool hero like you? Just show me a bit, pretty please with a cherry on top?"

I sighed.

"Only a little, but don't tell dad okay?"

He cheered, his tiny body jumping up and down with glee. He ran through the front door without even making sure that I was following him. I smiled a little despite myself. What could it hurt to humour him just a little?

It's not like calling me a "cool hero" inflated my ego or anything.

XX

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?"

Dad's angry voice bellowed, easily resonating throughout the house. It wasn't often that I saw him angry like this.

"I didn't– "

"NO! You're right… You weren't thinking! Now you've got _Jaune_ thinking that he's gonna grow up to be some hotshot huntsman. He's going to get himself killed."

It was rare for me to talk back to my father, but my annoyance simmered for too long, and was slowly becoming anger. Jaune is still just a ten-year-old kid, so it wasn't fair to say that he would do poorly as a warrior. He, however, showed great attention to my instructions in the admittedly few days I was training him and seemed to have a constitution fit for a future huntsman-in-training (if that potential were allowed to flourish, that is). I knew _why_ my father wasn't the greatest supporter of the continuation of the _Arc huntsman line_, and I sympathized with him, to some degree. But if being a huntsman was truly what he wanted to be, I would do everything in my power to make sure that Jaune had the freedom to make that decision himself.

"You don't know that! Just because _you're _afraid doesn't mean that your kids shouldn't live the life they want to live!" I spat back hotly at my father. Despite knowing that I was getting emotional, I still surprised myself with the bite held within my voice.

Dad looked like he wanted to rip a chunk out of me, but luckily, he was stopped by mom marching into the room with Jaune hiding behind her pant leg.

"JACQUES!" she shouted, pulling her husband back by the shoulder.

"Isabelle–" he tried to start, but was cut off by his wife.

"You're scaring the kids, Jacques. Jaune came to me and begged me to get you to stop yelling at his big sister."

"But– "

"But she's _right_," my mom came to my defense, surprising me, "As much as you try to hide it from us, I can tell how much Jeanne's… duties bother you. You keep your worry bottled in all the time. Something like this was bound to happen eventually. If Jaune wants to be like his big sister that badly, we could at least make sure that he stays safe, no?"

"…"

"…I'm putting him through the wringer. If I think for even a moment that he's not serious about this, then all bets are off, got it?"

Dad's words surprised me and drew Jaune out from behind mom's back. "You mean...?" he asked tentatively.

"You aren't sleeping in anymore. You're up and outside by six every morning before school, got that? Jeanne, you're helping too?"

As Jaune ran to give his dad a big hug, shouting "thank you thank you thank you" over and over again, I couldn't help but smile.

XX

I frowned as I separated Jaune from Saphron. The two were giving each other glares strong enough to set a Grimm on fire, _without silver eyes that is,_ and if it weren't for my arm blocking Jaune's path, I'm sure he'd be back to pulling his older sister's hair.

A slight frown found its way on my lips. "Would you two mind explaining what's going on?"

Jaune was quick to answer my question. "Saphron told dad about you training me!"

"I didn't want you to hurt yourself!"

"That doesn't mean you have to– "

"Enough, both of you," I cut their argument short. I looked to Jaune "Apologize to your sister. She was just worried about your safety."

I never even thought that dad would find out through one of my sisters, but in retrospect, I should have expected it. He's always said how dangerous being a huntsman is, so it was little wonder how his children would adopt the very same aversion to the profession.

Other than Jaune, evidently.

My troublesome little brother looked away and grumbled out something that I'll allow to pass for an apology.

"Saph," my eyes softened as I ruffled the girl's hair, "I _know_ you're worried for your little brother –trust me, from one big sis to another, I get it– but you gotta trust me on this one. I'll keep him safe."

She swatted the hand off her head, but I could tell she wasn't really upset. She pouted and averted her gaze. _Cute. She'll be a beautiful woman in a couple of years. Just like mom._

"M'kay?"

"M'kay…" she parroted in a smaller voice.

I couldn't help but run my hand through her hair again lovingly. She –all of us– really loved Jaune regardless of how much we all like to mess with him for being the only boy of the family.

"Jaune, dad wanted me to get you. He said he wants to get some more training in before it gets too dark," I addressed my darling little troublemaker, who up to that point had been fairly silent.

"Saphron," this time I turned to my little sister, "you can come to watch if you want. I'm sure Jaune would love to have an audience, and you might even see dad do something cool."

Her eyes brightened. She was both a curious soul and a daddy's girl, so I'm sure she wouldn't pass up the chance.

"Kay!"

XX

"HWOOMF"

I winced as dad knocked the air out of Jaune _again_. Poor kid's rear hit the ground hard enough to tear the soil out from underneath the bed of grass.

"That shouldn't have hit you Jaune. I know you're able to dodge that." Dad had a slight frown on his face, resting the pole of his flag-spear on his shoulder. He had to raise his voice a little to be heard over the sound of Saphron laughing from her seat on the porch's front steps.

"No fair!" the abused shouted. _He can really take a hit if nothing else_, "You're bigger than me! Your arms are too long!"

He was arguing for the sake of arguing. Dad knew it, I knew it, Jaune probably knew it too. "Jaune, be serious," I admonished lightly I paused in thought, "I have a relatively safe mission coming up soon. I talked with dad and he said that if he thinks you're up to it you can come with me."

He definitely wasn't expecting that, if his slack jaw was any indication. _Hook, line, sinker. _This worked two ways: it would encourage Jaune to really give an extra doubling of his efforts in training, and it would give him an opportunity to see what it would be like to be a huntsman in a relatively safe and constructive environment.

"HELL YES!" he squealed. Motivation renewed, he jumped to his feet and charged dad.

"Watch your language, mister!" I scolded him. I'm not sure he heard me though, since he was knocked into the dirt for what must have been the tenth time in the hour.

Despite myself, I cracked a smile. He's definitely well on his way for a kid, but he for sure still has a long way to go.

XX

"Do you remember what I told you?"

"Always listen to what you say, no matter what!" Jaune exclaimed in a no-quite-austere voice. _It's hard to look serious when you're practically vibrating with excitement._

"And?" I quirked a brow expectantly.

"…And never leave your sight without telling you!"

"Good." With that, I picked up my leather drawstring bag and slung it over my shoulder. I put on my metal headpiece and strapped **La Pucelle **to my hip. The sword didn't have any fancy mechashifting function, but it didn't need any. I can run my aura through it as if it were an extension of my arm. _With my semblance, that makes it better than any weapon I can think of._

Jaune followed my example. He flung his bag over his shoulder, so obviously trying to imitate the way I did it. _I think he got that bag because it looks like mine too. Cute. _It was time to say our goodbyes to the rest of the family.

"Jeanne," dad got my attention, "I know you have to slow things down for your Jaune's sake, but make sure you're back in time for graduation next Tuesday. I know it's just a piece of paper, and Ozpin seems to think that you're the _greatest huntsman to ever walk the earth and all_–

I could hear the well-humoured sarcasm in his voice as he said that.

"–but if you want to be an _actual _huntsman and get _paid_, it's an important piece of paper nonetheless."

I nodded with a smile, understanding that perfectly well. Before I could move on, however, dad surprised me by pulling me into a hug.

"Be safe, _ma belle_."

My surprise melted back into a content smile as I hugged him back. Despite trying to play the part of the stone-hard huntsman patriarch, I knew he was simply a very loving, and very worried father.

"I know dad, I will."

He pulled away and took a knee to look my kid brother in the eye. "Jaune," he said somberly, "Jeanne will take good care of you, but where you two are going there are going to be a lot more creatures of Grimm than there are here. It's _dangerous_. Stay alert at all times, and don't goof off."

"Yeah, dad, I got it," the boy answered back almost flippantly. Though despite his attitude, I knew that he took dad's words to heart.

As how the ritual went after so many missions, I gave each of my sisters a big hug which I knew they all returned with love (despite some of that "love" being tempered by the throes of puberty). Following my example, Jaune did the same.

I faced mom and gave her a big smile, which she returned with equal enthusiasm. Pulling her in for a tight hug, I rested my chin on the crook of her neck. I think I may even be a little taller than her now.

Some of my classmates from Beacon would argue that it's unbecoming of a huntsman to be so attached to their parents at this age, but I didn't care. I love my family with all my heart. I cherish their goodbyes now much the same as I have in the past, and will continue to do in the future.

XX

"So how long has it been you said? This must be fairly recent if there still hasn't been a Grimm attack," I asked the town mayor as I got up from the seat facing his desk. I looked out his office window and observed the seemingly peaceful village from above. The soft light of the approaching sunset belied the true danger this village was in.

"It's been… I'd say ten days, maybe two weeks," replied the mayor, "I must confess that we were slow to comprehend the severity of our situation, so I can't be too sure."

Jaune, sitting in the chair next to mine, looked to me for what I'm guessing to be some sort of explanation. Unfortunately, I had none for the moment.

The mission assigned to me by Professor Ozpin was, in essence, quite the simple one. A border town near Mistral reported an unexplained spike in negative emotions, namely fear and onset of seemingly random phobias. Being a huntress, I was sent to serve as a symbol of security for the townspeople to quell the fear they have been experiencing. Essentially, make myself a known presence, cheer everyone up, and leave once they've calmed down somewhat.

The issue with that is that the mission report failed to express just how _odd_ everyone in this town was acting. The sudden emergence of negative emotions in one place isn't anything new, but everyone Jaune and I have encountered thus far have been unreasonably skittish and paranoid around us despite what it is that my profession represents. Even the mayor, the one who had requested our presence had been eyeing myself and my barely five-foot brother wearily for the entirety of our –as of now– twenty-minute discussion.

"Mister Mayor, I'm going to visit the town square for a while to interact with the villagers; hopefully I'll be successful in spreading some positive energy. Would that be fine with you?"

The man nodded, though still reserved. "Of course. Please try your best, Miss Arc."

I tapped Jaune on the shoulder as I made my way to the door. He understood my signal well enough as he promptly took to his feet and followed after me.

Though I _wish _he had remembered to properly excuse himself to the mayor before leaving. He's still young, but that's no reason to forget your manners, mister.

Jaune turned to face the older man as he reached the doorframe, "Thank you for your time mister mayor! Please excuse me."

I smiled as I kept walking. I stand corrected, it would seem.

XX

"Grimm attack!"

"Run!"

"Take the kids, I'll–gGRRK!"

It was a disaster. I had just been talking to a young couple about their plans for a honeymoon while Jaune carried grocery bags for a weakened elderly woman. My plan to rejuvenate the flow of positive energy was going well until, out of nowhere, a B_eringel _barreled through the town gates followed by a stampede of Grimm of all sorts.

The quaint little border town was now nothing more than an all-consuming bonfire of death and destruction, and no one here would be able to stop it from spreading except for me.

I would stop it.

"Jaune!" I yelled, "find as many people as you can and get them out of sight!"

"But–

"GO! NOW!"

The boy scurried off looking a little rattled; it's the first time I've ever really yelled at him, I think. Seeing everything turn to hell before me, I could do nothing but regret my decision of bringing my little brother on this mission. _This shouldn't have happened– no. All I can do now is hope that Jaune is alright. He's young, but he has a bit of combat training. He's the townspeople's best chance at surviving this._

I pulled **La Pucelle **from its sheath. Glowing a bright white due to my semblance, I brought the sword up just in time to block a vicious swing from an Ursa Major with minimal effort. With a yell, I forcefully tore through the creature's clawed paw and sliced my blade cleanly through its waist.

I didn't wait to see the monster turn to black ash. I dashed forward, cutting down any and all Grimm that appeared before me.

"AAAHH!"

I turned my head to face the origin of the scream. I bit my lip to hold back a worried gasp as I saw a wide-eyed Jaune struggling to hold back a Boarbatusk while a group of catatonic villagers hid behind him.

I steeled my gaze. I couldn't allow this to go any further. **La Pucelle **shone brighter than ever before, and with a wide sweep of my blade, a titanic wave of _purity given form _crashed into the surrounding Grimm. Those that remained immediately backed away before retreating. It was over.

I let out a sigh of relief as I approached my little brother. "Jaune are you o-

"M…Monster...!"

"One swing?"

"S-STAY AWAY!"

I felt my feet plant into the ground in front of me before I even understood what was going on. The townspeople were all looking at me as if I were some sort of demon from hell. _As if I were a Grimm._

"Now hold on, there's no need to be scared, the Grimm are all gone," I tried to reason with them softly as I once again made my way slowly towards Jaune. They must have taken this as a sign of aggression, however, since they immediately took Jaune by the arms and pulled him away. He didn't have his aura unlocked, so training or no, he was no match for the physical strength of even two or three adults. One of them took out a farming sickle and held it to Jaune's throat.

I started, stricken by panic, "What are you doing!? He's just a kid! LET HIM GO!"

I could see the discomfort on their faces. One of them bumbled out, "He… No, He… He's like you! He came with you! I saw– no, we all saw the black magic you used to defeat the Grimm. No human could do that! That's it… you're not a human, you're a Grimm! Like them, right!? A WITCH! WITCH!"

"WITCH!"

"WITCH!"

One by one, the other townspeople started to chant along with the man who spoke. Finding strength in mob mentality, another yelled, "Burn the witch!"

The others seemed to like that idea.

"Yeah!"

"Let's tie her up!"

I forced myself to calm down. This was getting out of hand very quickly. What was going on? This wasn't natural in any way. Thankfully, setting me on fire wouldn't do much thanks to my semblance and aura, but it would seem that they didn't know that. For now, I needed to make sure that Jaune would be kept safe.

"That's fine," I said loud enough that I was sure everyone packed in the destroyed plaza could hear me, "I will surrender myself willingly. IF you do nothing to the boy."

Jaune gave me the most heart-wrenching, horrified look I'd ever seen on his face. That's right, I'd never properly explained my abilities to him, had I? A mistake on my part; one that I'll be sure to never make again. For now, we both needed to get out of this alive, preferably without harming anyone here, _as misguided as they were_.

XX

I felt the rough fibers of the rope dig into my skin as they strapped me to what I assumed to be a wooden pole of some sort. Laying under my feet were stacks of hay that I assumed they had taken from the nearby barn.

I looked ahead to give the agonized little blond boy a comforting smile. He was tied up similarly to me, but was kept far away from any kind of execution platform. _He'll be safe for now at least._

I saw the matchstick fall into the pile of hay under me, but I barely registered the flames as they crawled up to lick my skin. I was still trying to figure out how I'd manage to–

"What's going on!?"

"She's not burning!"

"She really isn't human!"

"Quick, kill the kid! He can't be human either! THEY'RE BOTH GRIMM!"

Oh no. Not good.

Not good. Not good not good not good.

The villagers were out of their minds. They were leaping to conclusions and making completely irrational decisions. Because of this, they were going to kill my baby brother–

I saw it.

In the shadows cast on the alley between two buildings, two red orbs stared at me. It was an odd-looking creature, resembling an anorexic and shriveled human. The difference between this creature and a human was its pitch-black skin, absurdly long limbs and lack of any facial features other than its beady red eyes.

It was a Grimm.

I felt the blood drain from my face as I realized _exactly _what type of Grimm that was. Back home, parents would tell stories of it to frighten naughty children, my own included. In those stories, they'd call it _bête noir_.

Once I began my studies at Beacon academy, however, I learned more about the _real _creature behind those stories. It was called a _dread_, a creature speculated to be in close relation to an A_pathy_.

Like its relative, the dread moved in large numbers, invading entire towns, villages, and even cities. They caused anyone close to them to feel _inexplicable fear, _and a loss of rational thought. They amplified emotions much in the same way that an apathy repressed them. They rarely showed themselves, much preferring sticking to the shadows, which usually meant that huntsmen wouldn't be able to find them before it was too late.

It was too late.

I didn't notice before, but now that I knew that dread had invaded the village, I could tell that these villagers were nothing more than husks of their former selves, all form of reason having long escaped them. Their souls have already been claimed by the _bête noir_.

I turned to look at my frightened little brother for what I would assume to be the last time. I knew what I had to do to keep him safe, even if it may be a little… difficult. I gave him a sad smile.

As another sharpened farming tool that I wasn't familiar with approached Jaune's collar, he tucked his head inwards to brace himself in whatever way he could. But before the blade could pierce his flesh, the golden glow of my semblance covered him, stopping the blow. The bladed weapon merely dug into his bindings and involuntarily unbound him.

At the same time, I had to suppress a wince as the previously harmless flames began to burn away at my exposed flesh. My semblance was a fickle thing; while it allowed me to confer a _blessing of light _on any object, living or not, it was difficult to spread it thinly over such a distance. By protecting Jaune as far away as he was, I was allowing my own defenses against the fire to crumble.

I forced a smile. "Jaune! Don't be afraid, alright? I cast my semblance on you, so no one can hurt you. Run away, and I'll catch up to you!"

I could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry. "Big sis… You better be right behind me! You're the strongest person I know, so you better be okay!"

"Of course! These flames will never be able to hurt me," I lied, "so hurry along! Don't let them get you! Live, Jaune!"

The tears began to trickle down his cheeks against his will, and it was everything I could do to prevent my own. I'm only nineteen, so of course I don't want to die; I have –had, at this point– a whole life ahead of me. However, if I had to chose to save one of us between myself and my brother, without fail, _I would choose my brother every time without question._

Jaune headbutted the man holding my weapon, dazing him. He took advantage of the villagers' surprise-induced inaction to grab **La Pucelle** and bolt.

As he got further and further away from me, I could feel the flames burn hotter. My flesh was past bubbling at this point and was starting to peel off. I had to hold back my screams until I knew that Jaune was completely out of harm's way.

After what felt like an eternity, the connection I had to my semblance was cut off abruptly, indicating that Jaune was too far away. Even though the fire was now devouring my unprotected body, I smiled knowing that at the very least, Jaune would be able to see another day in my stead. _I guess the flames don't hurt much anymore, huh. My nerves must have burnt away, or something._

With the last of my conscious thought, I knew that I had to put an end to the evil in this village. Both the soulless husks of the victims and the dread. I couldn't allow someone to come here by accident, only to meet the same end as me.

_I love you, Jaune. Please, grow up to be the big, strong, and kind young man I always knew you'd become. And… It may be a little selfish of me to ask, but please live in my stead too, alright? Do the things I won't have the chance to do, now that I'm like this. Be there for our sisters when they need you, look after our parents when they really do become old, weak and frail. Find someone… nice, and fall… in… love…..._

I couldn't hold back my tears anymore. I don't think I truly acknowledged that my tear ducts had already turned to ash.

I needed one last push. Every last bit of my soul needed to go into this.

**_Luminosité Éternelle_**

In a magnificent show of fire and white light, the village around me –and everything in it– met its end.

XX

I don't know how long I've been walking. I don't know where I've ended up. I don't know where I'm gonna go.

I don't think I cared though.

I still haven't processed everything. I still don't _understand _everything. Big sis was supposed to be right behind me. She said she would be. She _promised _she would be. But she wasn't though.

There was nothing left. The village full of those crazy bastards was completely wiped out.

She's… gone.

It's been three days, I think. Three days since big sis…

I kept walking through the thick, green forest. I would surely reach civilization at this rate… or not.

I needed to do… something. I don't know what that something is, but I don't know what I'm going to end up doing to myself if I'm left alone to think by myself any longer. I'm starting to feel like I'm walking in circles. I'm starting to feel like I'm talking in circles.

I don't think I care, though. I don't think I–

"GRAAAAAAAAHHHHGGH!"

I fell to my knees, screaming at the ground as I smashed my head repeatedly against the tree trunk that was unfortunate enough to be right in my line of sight. I was bleeding. I think I… I don't–

Why am I still moving? Why am I still alive? Why isn't sis–? Is it worth it? I'm tired, so I think I'll go to sleep for a while… Yeah, that sounds–

_Hurry along! Don't let them get you! Live, Jaune!_

I stopped moving. Something hot was dripping down the side of my face. I took a deep breath, hugged my sister's weapon close to my chest, and forced myself to calm down.

This cycle has repeated itself countless times now.

I would crack, remember my sister telling me to live, cry, then calm down. Rinse repeat.

I forced myself to my feet. This couldn't keep happening. I needed to find civilization –sane civilization– and I needed to find it soon before I snapped for real.

I doubt I was too far from that point.

I took one step. Then another, and before I knew it, I was gunning it at full speed. I didn't care about how my legs burned, or how my chest felt like it was about to explode. I kept running, and running, and running, relishing the feeling of endorphins wash over me. I wouldn't stop until I reached… something. Anything.

It took me two more days to find that "something", after passing out from exhaustion at least a couple times along the way. I hadn't eaten in nearly a week. Eating hadn't even occurred to me. However, the moment I caught a glance of the port town overlooking the water, the first thing I thought was "I need to eat, or I might really die."

The town was lively, much more than mine back home. I'm not saying that it wasn't a happy place, but this felt like more of a city to me. The place I grew up in was more… quaint.

Walking down the streets, everywhere I looked there was a vendor at a stall, selling all kinds of trinkets. I'm sure that if I would have been begging to take something home if I were here with mom or–

I started to walk faster, almost bumping into someone. Pushing past them, I ignored their shout of protest in order to find something to eat. _Not that I know how I'm going to get anything since I left my bag with all my money to burn in that village._

A hand planted itself on my shoulder, not letting me take another step. I turned around to face a pretty lady with red hair and glasses.

"You should pay more attention to your surroundings young man. You nearly knocked this poor vendor right into the melon cart. As a hopeful Sanctum attendee, you should be alert at all times."

I had no idea what this lady was saying. _Sanctum? The hell's that?_

Regardless, I turned to face the melon guy and bowed my head. "Sorry, it won't happen again." And with that lackluster response, I tried to leave again.

The crazy lady looked like she wanted to say something more, but I cut her off before any sound left her lips. "Look, I'm sorry, really, but I need to find something to eat."

The lady held her tongue and paused to give me a once-over. "Kid… What on earth happened to you?"

It took me a second to get what she was saying, but now that I think about it, I must look pretty bad, huh? My clothes were singed and in tatters, I was barefoot, and I could feel the aches of the injuries I got when I escaped. I'm pretty sure there was still some dried blood on my forehead from hitting it repeatedly against hard surfaces.

Now I wasn't about to tell this stranger anything, so I had to make up some sort of "alternative truth". It had to be believable and well thought out.

"I hurt myself playing in the forest."

"…"

"…"

Okay, that was pretty bad.

"You… hurt yourself playing in…" the lady sighed in what was probably exasperation, "never mind. Now, I couldn't in good conscience leave you like this. Where are your parents? Are you lost? Is there anyone I can help you get in touch with?"

In another kingdom, very lost, and the person you can help me get in touch with isn't where I want her to be. I'm scared, sad, and I have no clue what I'm doing. I'm not comfortable telling you any of that though.

"I'm… here alone. I'm from Orleans, near Vale."

Her eyes widened. "That's… very far. How did you manage to get all the way here?"

I looked away. I knew I was being rude –mom and big sis always said that it was bad to be rude to people– but this lady was being awfully pushy for someone who just told off a stranger.

The lady looked like she was deep in thought. She was absentmindedly brushing strands of her bangs behind her ears over and over again.

"Look. I need to pick my daughter up in an hour or so, so how about I get you something to eat in the meantime? Atlas military is stationed here in Argus, so after I get her, we can take you down to the base. I'm positive they'd be able to contact your family in Orleans. Sound good?"

Wow. That's really… nice of her actually. The first turn of good luck I had all week. I feel kind of relieved. I'll be able to go home, see my family, and…

I shot my hands up to my face as quickly as I could to stop anyone nearby from seeing the tears that were flowing freely.

"Th-thank you, Miss." The hands in my face weren't able to muffle the waver in my voice.

She smiled kindly. If she knew that I was crying –which she definitely did– she didn't show it.

"You can call me Thetis. Now come, there's a great place around the corner."

XX

Thetis was right, the food was pretty good. My only complaint was that I wasn't allowed to order a burger because she said that "A growing boy should have a healthier diet."

It's not as much of a complaint any more though. As I took another bite of my avocado-chicken salad, I discovered that I might actually like avocado. Who knew?

"So Jaune," said Thetis, "I couldn't help but notice the blade you have with you. I can tell it's huntsman quality, but it's a little large for someone your age, right?"

Thetis has been very nice to me, so it was the least I could do to be a little cooperative. I put down my fork for the first time since my meal arrived.

"It's not mine. It's– it was my sister's. She…" I had trouble deciding what to say next. "Something happened, and… I lived, but she–

I was beginning to lose my appetite, despite the fact that this was the first meal I had in a week. I couldn't finish that sentence.

Thetis' face softened in sympathy. "You must've gone through a lot, huh? Don't worry Jaune, I'll make sure that at the very least you'll get home safely. Just leave it to the grown-ups now."

I couldn't find it in me to say anything. I just nodded my head.

"You're really strong for someone so young, you know?"

"NO! No way… It's because I wasn't strong enough that… That!..."

I was beginning to hyperventilate. Much in the same way that mom would, Thetis got up from her seat and sat down next to me at my booth. She was rubbing circles comfortingly on my back.

"You _are _strong, Jaune. Terrible things happened to you, but instead of giving up, you _kept going_. You're strong _in here_." She placed her hand over my heart.

"I'm sure that your sister is _so _proud of her brother," she said gently.

I cried.

I broke down, and I cried in the arms of a woman I just met less than an hour ago.

I couldn't find it in me to care.

XX

"So, this is…?" I asked, looking at the fairly large, cool-looking building in front of me.

"Sanctum. Sanctum Academy. My daughter should be out any minute now," Thetis looked at me strangely for a moment, "and now that I think about it, you two are roughly the same age, I believe."

Interesting. "So, this Sanctum academy place… it's your daughter's school?"

"Oh, no," Thetis waved her hand dismissively, "not right now at least. It's a huntsman prep school affiliated with Mistral's very own Haven Academy. I brought her here for the orientation for potential applicants. She's a prodigy for her age, so she's been checking out all the prep schools in the kingdom to see which one she thinks is the best for her."

The bragging was pretty evident, but I guess that was fine since it _is _her daughter she's talking about. _And hey, that's pretty cool, right? She's aiming to be a hunter like me._

Not a minute later, a young girl my age walked up to us. She looked like a mini clone of Thetis, short hair and all. The only evident difference was that her hair fell straight to her shoulders as opposed to curling inwards into a bob like Thetis'. She wore a simple, sleeveless red dress that went down to her thigh.

Something metal reflected the sunlight on her hip. It looked to be nothing more than a plain six-inch tube, but if my limited combat training taught me anything it was that the tube was probably a mechashifting weapon.

"Hi mom!" she noticed me. She gave her mom a confused look, which Thetis answered with a smile. She took it as a go-ahead to introduce herself. "And hello! I'm Pyrrha, nice to meet you!"

I put out my hand, which she took in a handshake without missing a beat. She completely ignored the way I look right now "Hi Pyrrha, I'm Jaune. Nice to meet you too."

She seemed nice.

"Alright Pyrrha, before we head out, we're going to take Jaune here to the local military base. 'Kay?"

I felt kind of bad for taking their time like this.

Pyrrha smiled and nodded her head "That would be just fine. Though if it wouldn't be impolite to ask, what exactly is going on? I do not believe we've been acquainted before today."

She speaks really proper-like, huh?

"I met Jaune here," Thetis placed her hand on my shoulder, "on the way to pick you up. He's in a bit of a bind, and he's a bit far from home. Atlas could probably give him a hand."

"I see," the girl clasped her hands in front of her, "I hope everything goes well for you, Jaune."

As we walked at a leisurely pace through the city, I noticed Pyrrha giving **La Pucelle **glances from the corner of my eye. This continued a while longer before she gathered the courage to say anything.

"Say, Jaune…" she trailed, "That sword… Are you by any chance undergoing huntsman training?"

"Yeah," I rested my hand on **La Pucelle**'s pommel, "I come from a family of huntsmen, so they're training me."

"How grand!" Pyrrha seemed fully invested in the conversation now. I have no clue how many people my age would be into this kind of stuff other than me, but I guess she's one of them. "I'm positive that coming from a family familiar with the field, you'd have no trouble finding a great weapon in the future."

While I agreed with her overall, I felt the need to vocalize something. "Actually, there's no weapon I'd rather use than this." I gestured with the French sword in hand.

"Are you sure?" it was kind of annoying that her confusion sounded real. Like she had no confidence in **La Pucelle **at all from the get-go.

With a small frown, I replied, "Positive. **La Pucelle **is the best weapon ever."

"Well it _is _quite elegant, but from what I've learned in my teachings, something less… tailored would–

"I don't buy that!" Not even _I _knew how angry I was starting to get before I opened my big mouth. "**La Pucelle **is just fine."

"I appreciate your fondness for your weapon," she looked like she was trying to explain something to a toddler, "but even if it's just for training, it wouldn't be ideal. Why are you so insistent?"

"I'll show you why right now! You're supposed to be some hotshot, aren't you? If you think it's such a _bad weapon_, then prove it."

Pyrrha's face looked stricken, and Thetis looked worried.

"I… I'm sorry, Jaune. Please allow me to take back my–

"No way." I have no idea why I'm so out of control like this. Dad would be mad if he heard how I was behaving. "_I will show you _why you're wrong."

Pyrrha's expression morphed from regret to resignation in a way that looked weirdly grown-up on someone my age. "Very well, Jaune. But please do not get angry when you lose." She detached the strange pole that she had at her hip and it morphed into a full-blown spear with a gentle flick of her wrist.

My hands started to tremble with anger. She sounded way too sure of herself.

Thetis decided it was time to intervene. "That's enough, both of you. It would be a show of poor character to start a _brawl _in public like that. You've been taught better, Pyrrha."

The shorter redhead didn't have time to answer her mother as I pounced at her, ignoring the kind lady's words. Both of their eyes widened in surprise at both the sudden movement and the strength behind my swing. Pyrrha barely had any time to bring her own weapon in defence.

I was young. I was inexperienced. I've never actually used big sis' blade, and I was kind of scared to mess up. Despite all of that, I've been taught by dad– by a _huntsman– _to put strength and conviction in every blow.

Young, inexperienced, but not weak.

My opponent got over her momentary loss of focus and pushed away from the contact. After she retreated to a distance she was more comfortable with, she knocked my blade aside and directed a thrust to my chest in the same instant with the back end of her spear.

_Fast!_ It was my turn to be caught by surprise. Maybe her confidence wasn't just her blowing hot air. _Dad's faster though._

It was a close thing, but I retracted my sword in time to redirect the blow. I moved in again with a sweep that Pyrrha was forced to jump back from.

"Hey, hey… what are those two doing?"

"That's not something you see every day, is it?"

"Is that even allowed?"

"Who cares? They're putting on a hell of a show for a couple of squirts. It's probably some Sanctum thing… or something."

I was vaguely aware of the crowd that we were slowly gathering. That awareness quickly faded though, as my frustration was starting to get the better of me.

_Why–_

Swing

_Can't–_

Clang

_I–_

Swipe

_Hit–_

Whoosh

_You?!_

As I swung harder, faster, my opponent showed to do the same. I tried to take the upper hand, and she just seemed to get more focused and pushed me back even more. _How annoying! Stop insulting m–_

"**Enough."**

It wasn't loud. The tone of the voice was more than enough to get both of us to stop in our tracks, and quickly got rid of the now-spooked onlookers.

"They've got some scary teachers at Sanctum, man."

"Yeah, she wasn't even talking to us, but I think I might've pissed myself anyway."

"…Let's hit the road just in case though."

"You said it."

It took Thetis close to a minute to get her bearings and process what was going on –though it felt like longer– but the second she did, she decided that she _would not _allow for the fight to continue.

"I'll start to get mad. Put your weapons away. Do you even have your aura unlocked, Jaune? What would you have done if Pyrrha didn't have the presence of mind to avoid injuring you? What if you hit her, and she didn't have any aura of her own?"

Pyrrha was breathing hard like me, but she looked kind of relieved that she didn't have to fight anymore. Man, she's really good in a fight though.

"I…" I had no words to describe the utter shame and embarrassment I was feeling. My sense of reason returned to me in a wave of cold understanding of what I just did.

I don't know why I got so angry over a sword; hell, she was probably right anyway. This sword was made for sis' semblance alone. I'd have to apologize to Pyrrha. She didn't deserve any of this.

Jeanne would say that it's the right thing to do. I wouldn't want to let Jeanne down or any–

"I'M SORRY! Thetis, Pyrrha, Jeanne… I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I–

Oh. I was crying again. How embarrassing, crying in front of a girl my age like that. On my knees, I forced my head down with degrees of guilt and shame that not even I could fully understand

I thought it was all out of my system already. I had no clue how long grief would stick to me. Jeanne… Jeanne died. I couldn't even acknowledge that. I couldn't even bring myself to _say her name_. Even now… I just couldn't accept it. She died because she had to protect her useless little brother.

I felt small arms wrap around my lowered head and pulled it into an equally small torso. I stilled.

"When I'm sad, this is what mom does to help me."

"I…I'm sorry… Pyrrha, Miss Thetis," _I can't believe I did something so disagreeable to people who were just trying to help me, _"That was beyond rude of me, I…" I trailed off. I didn't know what to say to make things better.

Thetis crouched to ruffle my hair. Her expression softened into a smile. "Jaune, you're grieving, and understandably so. _No one _would hold that against you. No child should have to be going through what you are," her smile turned into a teasing smirk, though still retained a little force, "though your efforts to refrain from doing something of this sort in our presence again would be greatly appreciated, and _definitely _not with anyone else. You're lucky my little _Eleos _is talented as she is_."_

"Moooom…" Pyrrha whined. From what little I could see from my awkward positioning, her face flushed from embarrassment at her mother's nickname.

Thetis ignored the younger girl's discomfort. "Alright, you two. If you're both done your squabbling, the military base is little further than a couple of blocks away. Jaune, at the very least, they'll probably contact your parents through their _cross-continental_ _transmit system _before the day is out."

Pyrrha and I pushed away from each other and scrambled to our feet once we realized that we were scrunched together for a little too long.

"So, Jaune," began Pyrrha once the tension caused by our spat dissipated somewhat, "if you don't mind me asking, what did I do to make you so angry? I would like to make amends, if at all possible."

I looked down to my feet, shame lingering. She's the same age as me, but she's so much more mature. She's even trying to apologize for something that _I know _was my more my fault than hers. I owed her an explanation for that, at least.

It's what my sister would do.

"Please, there's no need to apologize." Thetis slowed her pace a tad, allowing us to pass her and reconcile amongst kids in privacy. I gripped the French sword tightly for support. "You were right, I just didn't want to admit it. **La Pucelle **is –was– my big sister's weapon. She… died… recently. Trying to protect me. This is all I have left of her. I felt like I –no, rather I _still _feel like I need to follow in her footsteps. I need to be a great huntsman _for her_."

"I'm… so sorry. I didn't know. I would have never said those… things otherwise." The girl looked like she genuinely felt bad for me. I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Please, don't feel bad. As I said, I'm the one who escalated things, so what happened isn't your fault." I took **La Pucelle **halfway out of its sheath, "You're right either way; my sister had this blade custom made for a really specific fighting style. It's a French sword, but it's not the right size, and it's not the right weight."

A silence came between us again for no more than a few moments, after which Pyrrha inquired, "If you want to be a huntsman, will you go to a prep school like Sanctum?"

I took a moment to really think about that question. Before going to Beacon, I didn't think that Jeanne went to a prep school. Rather, dad trained her personally for some reason. On the other hand, Pyrrha is plenty strong, and she seemed to think that going to a prep school was the best way to improve herself.

"I'm… not sure. I'd have to ask dad."

"Well, that's fine!" She gave me a big smile, much like the one she gave me when we first met earlier that day. "If you do though, I'd love to have a friend at Sanctum with me."

"Well," I scratched the back of my head awkwardly, "I live in Vale, so I'd probably go somewhere a little closer if I did…"

"Oh."

For some reason I couldn't understand, she looked really sad. I panicked and tried to think of something I could say to make things better.

"Um…! We… We can still be friends though! Yeah, definitely!"

Thankfully, she seemed to brighten up a little. "Oh… Yes, I would appreciate that very much. Thank you, Jaune."

I meant that, really, I did, but it was basically just a gesture at this point. We live in completely different kingdoms, and I'm sure that she'll make plenty of friends at Sanctum either way.

We arrived at a fortified bridge at the end of the town's waterfront. At the other end, I could see a huge facility blocked off by tall gates; neither fit in very well with the rest of the city. This was probably the military base.

A huge man dressed in a white uniform approached us before we made it halfway down the bridge. "Halt! State your business with Atlas military base, Argus branch!"

Thetis walked right past us for the first time since she fell back on our way here. "I am Thetis Nikos, and this is my daughter Pyrrha." The big man seemed to recognize their name, somehow. "This young man is the unfortunate victim of a Grimm attack and has been stranded here for a week. I would be very grateful if you'd be able to get him in touch with his parents in Orleans, Vale."

He pulled out a black scroll-looking thing from his breast pocket. Without saying a word, he pushed the button on the side and held it to his ear.

"Hello, ma'am? Missus Nikos is here with a child. Caucasian, blond hair, blue eyes, I'd say ten to twelve years of age. He has a weapon –French sword– but it does not seem to be fit for his stature. She's saying that he's from Orleans in Vale... Yes, ma'am, Missus Nikos, yes… Orleans, ma'am… Yes, ma'am, I'll let her know… Yes, ma'am."

He put the scroll-thing away. "Specialist Cordovin has allowed entry to the boy. Luckily, there is a bullhead scheduled to leave for Vale proper tomorrow morning. We'll have to make some calls, as well as pass some security checks, but there should be no issue dropping him off in Orleans on the way."

I was surprised by how… smoothly that went. Was Thetis someone really important or something?

"Good, good," Thetis waved it off like she expected this outcome, "I trust you'll be able to give him board until then?"

"Naturally," the Atlesian straightened, "we will offer the young lad the utmost care during his stay. The Specialist sends her regards, missus Nikos, and I've been told to inform you that if there's anything more you need from us, not to hesitate to ask. I trust that would be all?"

"Yes, quite, and please do extend Caroline my thanks."

_I'm going home._

I turned my back to the bridge-man to look Thetis in the eyes. I took a deep bow, down to my waist like how dad taught me to do when I'm thanking someone for something huge like this. "Thetis… I have no words. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for everything you've done for me. You've done more for me today than I could ever repay, _and _you put up with me at my worst."

I raised my head to look at her daughter. "And Pyrrha, sorry for putting you through that even though we just met. You're a great fighter and a very kind person from what I've seen. I'm sure you'll do great at Sanctum."

Almost synchronized, they took a step back and smiled.

"You're more than welcome, young man."

"I'm sure you'll do splendidly as well, no matter the path you chose to follow. Best of luck, Jaune."

I smiled back.

XX

It took Jaune a week and a half by bullhead to get back to Orleans. By then, his whole family was worried sick. When they heard what happened, it was heartbreaking. His mother fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands. His sisters weren't in a much better condition.

However, the worst was his dad. He'd try to comfort the rest of them, but when he'd be left alone, he would sit by himself at the kitchen counter, staring into nothing.

Tonight was one such instance, even though nearly two weeks had passed.

It was late, so everyone else had gone to bed. Everyone except for the Arc household's sole male child.

He walked up to the kitchen table and quietly pulled out the chair facing his father. Taking a seat, he softly said, "Please, I need you to start training me again."

"No."

"Dad, I know you're upset, but I can take care of– "

"I said no."

Jaune frowned. They've had this recurring conversation ever since he'd returned from mistral. "Do you… blame me for what happened?"

That seemed to snap Jacques out of it, if only slightly. "No! Never. You're just a child Jaune. There's nothing you could have done."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!"

The head of the family looked taken aback. Neither of them would be too surprised if that scream woke up the whole family.

Jacques wasn't expecting the outburst, but he wasn't too surprised. Ever since he returned, Jaune had been very quiet. He'd smile, try to cheer up his younger sisters, but his normal exuberance just wasn't there. It was exactly how he himself acted the first time a mission went truly terribly for him, and admittedly, how he was acting right now.

"If I was _actually _strong, Jeanne wouldn't have needed to protect me! If it was just her… If she wasn't stuck with a liability like me, then she would have _definitely_ made it home, no question. You'd know that best, dad."

Jacques didn't know what to say, so he opted to keep his mouth shut for the moment.

"If you _make _me strong, nothing like that would ever happen again."

Closing his eyes, Jacques silently rested his forehead against his fist. "You've had a taste of how terrible this world of ours can really be, in the worst way possible. But let me tell you now, Jaune, that's just the tip of the iceberg. There's nothing fair about any of this. It doesn't matter how strong you are, or even how prepared you are. You'll never be able to promise something like _that won't ever happen again_. It _can _happen again, and if you're trying to be like your sister, it probably _will_ happen again."

Jaune let his arms fall into his lap, and his eyes followed.

"It was futile of me to think that I'd ever be able to end our family's cursed fate. The moment you started to look up to Jeanne –no, the moment I allowed Jeanne to walk _that_ path– you lost all your chances of leading the simple life I wished for all of you. It's time I finally admit to myself that preparing you for what's to come is the only thing I can do now."

The boy froze, "You mean–

"I mean, I'll be _driving _you into the ground from now on. When I'm done with you, you'll either be locked in this house for the rest of your life, broken by physical stress, or good enough that if you get stuck somewhere along the way, it'll be because you did something stupid, and not because someone got the better of you. Like I did with your sister, I'll coordinate your studies with your school so that you can spend as much time with me as possible. _Unlike _what I did with your sister, if you're not studying, you're either eating, sleeping, or _training_. If you're not prepared, you will break. Am I understood?"

His son's eyes widened like those of a deer caught in the headlights. It sounded rough, and possibly even illegal and kind of like child-abuse, but…

He resolved himself, pushing back his chair to get to his feet. "I won't disappoint you."

If he gave up now, then he'd be spitting on his sister's sacrifice.

XX

"RRRHAAAAAAAH!"

Jaune brought down a large metal pole in an overhead swing. Despite his young age and relative inexperience, the strength behind the motion was significant enough to rustle the grass in the clearing with a small gust of wind.

"Again. You were distracted."

Jacques was not satisfied. He wasn't satisfied with this swing, the last one, or the last fifty his son had performed that same morning. However, that wasn't to say that his son was not making good progress.

Only once the boy would be able to defeat him soundly with his eyes closed, both hands tied behind the back, all while wrestling a behemoth would he be satisfied. That is to say, probably no time soon.

"HAAAH!"

The kid didn't complain though. Three weeks in, and not even a grumble of disapproval.

It was torture.

Even Jacques would admit it wasn't much of an exaggeration. Once Jaune's body began to weaken, his mind would strengthen to pick up the slack. When his mind started to lose its footing, he would push forward with nothing but power of will.

However, even that could only take him so far. Eventually, he'd collapse, and Jacques would bring him to bed. The next morning he'd go to classes until noon, come home for lunch, then the whole cycle would repeat itself.

"Again."

"HaaAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

That last swing displaced the air strongly enough to snap the smaller branches right off the tree ten meters in the distance.

THUMP

Before his exhausted body hit the ground, Jaune's father caught his son in his arms.

Despite himself, the man allowed a smile to sneak itself onto his face. "You're getting better, Jaune."

"Quite."

Jacques' head snapped to the side to face the clearing's surprise visitor. Narrowing his eyes in contempt, he growled out, "What can I do for you today, Ozpin."

The new figure sighed. "I suppose I cannot blame a grieving father for his animosity. Despite what you may think, I came first and foremost to offer my sincerest condolences for your loss. None of us expected or wished for things to go the way they did."

Jacques narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure you didn't. What do you want?"

"Cutting right to the chase, then. That's fine."

…

"Beacon –Remnant, rather– needs that boy."

Jaune's father grit his teeth. "Absolutely not. I won't send my son to your cult of a school to die."

Ozpin sighed, scratching his temple with his index, "Whenever you see _it_, just sitting there, unused, collecting dust; you feel guilty, don't you?"

"Never. That cursed thing is nothing more than a way for the gods to hold us prisoners with our own power, proving to the world that we're nothing but tools used to run their errands."

"That may be true…" Ozpin took a moment to think of how to best phrase his argument, "but complaints such as those will lead to nothing but tragedy. What you say… it's the same for the maidens, the silver-eyed, and even me. However, _refusing _to fight means that the ones who can't won't have a choice other than to take our place."

"I won't give him Luminosité Éternelle."

"And how did that handicap work out for your daughter?"

"OZPIN!" Jacques grabbed the bespectacled man by the collar of his shirt, "WATCH YOUR MOUTH YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"

"WOULD YOU QUIT BEING SUCH AN IDIOT!?" Ozpin very rarely raised his voice, let alone screamed, but the urgency of the situation coupled with Jacque's unwillingness to listen to reason got to him. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself. "If _I_ could feel it, then I'm sure you've already realized yourself that Jaune _already has Luminosité Éternelle_. I can't change that, and neither can you. Whatever this is–" he said referring to the unconscious boy sleeping not-so-soundly on the hard ground "–it won't be enough. You may think me heartless, but I don't want to see that boy end up _like that poor girl_."

"I know that," whispered Arc, "everything you just said… I already know. I was going to give it to Jeanne as a graduation present –I was delaying it for long enough– but then she…"

Jacques was a towering man. Even with his greying hair and beard and wrinkling skin, he cut an imposing figure. The mistiness in his eyes didn't suit him.

His shoulders slumped, his hands finally letting go of the Headmaster as they dropped down to his side.

"He'll get it once he's ready."

"And Beacon?"

"…I'll think about it."

"I can protect him. Even if it's just for a little while I–

"I _said _I'll think about it. Please leave, Ozpin."

Ozpin's lips thinned in what could have been a smile. "I understand. Before I leave though…" he placed a wrapped parcel in the larger man's arms, "this is what we could recover. Everything else was burned to ash. I'm sorry."

Gently removing the wrappings, Jacques smiled sadly at the contents. It was his daughter's headpiece, the beads once attached having been singed off.

"Thanks."

With a tap of his cane, Ozpin was gone like the wind.

XX

A beautiful teenage girl stood with a pleased expression on her face. She held a simple, brandless scroll to her ear.

"Your Majesty… Everything went splendidly. We'll return by sundown tomorrow."

The girl's healthy, dark hair and her elegant-yet-youthful summer dress didn't at all suit the burnt and desolate landscape that surrounded her.

XXX


	2. Wrong, try again (somewhere else)

(A/N) So... _this _came out later than expected. Part of me blames midterm season, the other blames my initiative to scrap half the story and write it from scratch. At the very least, I hope it's something that everyone can enjoy.

There isn't an_ exact _amount of time that has elapsed between chapter one and chapter two, but I'd say _it's been a few months_.

As for why I dumped my original version of chapter two (and three... and four...) it's because I realized that by jumping straight to near-canon, I'd effectively be wasting about six years of character interactions and world-building... something that's sometimes skimmed over in RWBY.

As of yet, I still don't have a beta, so if you have any concerns regarding the story, please let me know!

XXX

Jaune's brow sweated into his hands as he glared down at the stack of paper topping his desk. He let his eyes trail to the side for a moment, but he caught himself and brought his attention back to the papers.

It was only then that he realized that he was holding his breath out of stress. With a loud sigh, he whispered, "Screw this…"

His body was sore. _Really _sore. He'd spent the entire afternoon sparring with his father, so by –he checked the clock on his night table– ten at night, he would've wanted to be in bed, resting so that he could be reinvigorated the next day.

That wasn't an option for him, however. Since he missed a lot of class, he had _a lot _of work to catch up on. But since his "itinerary" is already prepared for him in advance, when does he have a chance to do said work?

Unfortunately, the answer would be "now". Right now, at ten in the evening, when he had to be up at five the next morning for pre-class conditioning with his father.

With shaky hands, he thumbed through the papers for what could have been the tenth time.

Lab reports, essays, algebra homework…

He was spreading himself too thin; he couldn't keep up with it.

Torn as he was, Jaune couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. On one hand, he needed to get stronger, but on the other, he could imagine just how disappointed Jeanne would be if she knew he chose to disregard his studies.

As tired as he was, he pushed on. Like most nights, he wouldn't be able to rest until well past midnight.

Jaune picked up his pencil one more time fully intending to finish his math homework if nothing else.

KNOCK, KNOCK

His door opened a crack. As Jaune swiveled in his chair, he caught his father's head poking through the bedroom's entrance.

"Jaune, are you busy right now?"

The boy took one last glance at his schoolwork. He couldn't really imagine himself keeping it up for much longer today.

"No, what's wrong?"

His father took the initiative and fully entered the space. Uncharacteristically of him, Jacques shuffled awkwardly on his feet. "…Do you mind coming downstairs for a moment? There's something I have for you."

"Sure."

A strange silence overtook both of them.

"Well then…" Jacques scratched the back of his head. Whatever it was he had prepared, he evidently wasn't too keen about it. "I'll meet you by the fireplace when you're ready."

Jaune was left alone in his room once again, and his thoughts were allowed to meander. The report for his first school term would be given to him soon…

Would he be alright?

His frustrated grimace eased into a resigned frown. Well, whatever happens, happens, he supposed.

Jaune left his room.

XX

The two Arc males stood in front of the fireplace, and for whatever reason, Jacques was glaring a hole right into it. Jaune didn't think it was any different; it was still the same brick and mortar fireplace that stood out with the contrasting drywall and the ornamental spear that hung over it.

The boy soon found out that it was, in fact, the spear that his father was glaring at, as he gingerly lifted it from its stand and stared at it some more.

"…Dad?"

Jacques didn't answer him. Instead, he unfurled the cloth that was wrapped around the polearm for as long as Jaune could remember.

It was a flag, but the design on it wasn't at all familiar to the teen.

"Jaune, you remember what I told you about the Arc semblance, right?"

The boy nodded. "Yeah, it's called _Luminosité Éternelle, _isn't it? It has its differences with each family member, but it basically it gives us some sort of divine protection, right?"

"Yeah, that's what I told you," his father nodded somberly, "but not quite the whole truth. Not even your sisters know about this –hell, you wouldn't either, if you weren't so bullheaded about being a huntsman."

"What...?"

"Our semblance doesn't really have a name. Many generations ago, people mistook _Luminosité Éternelle _for being the name of the Arc semblance when it was actually the name of _this right here_… the weapon that allows us to use our true power… or at least, for some of us," continued the taller man as he pushed the spear into his son's hand, "And now… the strength of the Arc name belongs to you. _Luminosité Éternelle _will be yours to wield. "

Jaune was rendered speechless. Really, what do you say to something like that? His father called him downstairs during the final hours of the day, then hit him with something huge like this.

If Jacques was expecting some kind of verbal response from his son, he surely didn't care enough to wait for one. "I've called your school and told them that you wouldn't be in tomorrow."

"Why's that?"

Jacques put the spear back in its place, but he wouldn't stop glaring at it. "We have an appointment with a weaponsmith in the morning. He rarely has available bookings, so this was all I could manage. I'm sorry… is that alright?" he asked in a strangely unassertive tone.

It wasn't Jaune's place to say. If his dad thought this was for the best, then it would be fine. "Yeah."

The older man straightened his shoulders as if a weight was removed from them. "Good… That's good. We'll skip practice tomorrow; go get a proper night's rest. We'll leave at eight."

The father wished his son good night and retired to his bedchambers.

It was only once he was left to his own devices that Jaune clued into what Jacques was saying.

A weaponsmith? Why were they visiting a weaponsmith?

XX

Though he was told he could sleep in, Jaune found himself waking up a little before five anyway. At this point, it was a matter of habit more than anything.

It sucked. He was tired.

The blonde stifled a yawn and forced himself out of bed. He figured he should be somewhat presentable, so he chose to wear a plain pair of slacks and a white shirt.

Never let it be said that Jaune Arc was one for fashion.

He tiptoed down the stairs, trying not to wake up the rest of his family with the unpreventable squeaks of the wooden steps.

"You're up early. I suppose it's to be expected."

It was no surprise that his father was seated at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee. If Jaune was an early riser, then it was questionable if Jacques slept at all.

"Mhm." Jaune couldn't bring himself to stay alert during the early hours before the habitual morning training. As such, a weak, muffled response was all that he could manage.

Rather than coffee, the boy poured himself a glass of water. As he pulled out the chair next to his dad, he spoke softly, "I meant to ask you yesterday, but… why are we visiting a smithy?"

Though the difference in stature between a child and a powerful huntsman was too large to even bother mentioning, it was obvious that the pair were father and son. From the colour of their hair, to the wavy blond locks.

This was accentuated by their equally tired expressions, though while one was tired because of his waking hour, the other dealt with a separate matter entirely.

These past few months, Jacques looked tired more often than not.

"As it is now, that glorified centerpiece won't do you much good as a weapon. It's my intention to solve that issue as soon as possible."

Jaune was confused. From what he gathered, _Luminosité Éternelle _was a treasure that leads the Arc family to fame on the battlefield. It could be a little old, but that didn't mean–

_I appreciate your fondness for your weapon, but even if it's just for training, it wouldn't be ideal. Why are you so insistent?_

Remembering the redhead girl's words from back then, he felt as if his head cleared a little.

In the end, there was still a lot he didn't know.

"So what's the plan, then?"

"While the weapon itself has become frail, the materials it was crafted from –as well as its properties– are beyond priceless," explained the Arc patriarch. "The man we're visiting is a good friend of mine, so he'll be more than happy to take some time to discuss how we can turn that old relic into something more suited to a modern huntsman."

Before Jaune could further question the man, creaks of a staircase that the rest of the family was starting to wake up. Still, it was pretty early, so that meant that it was–

"Garnet. Good morning," greeted the boy.

Garnet was Jaune's older sister by two years. Her dark blonde hair was kept short as a bob cut, which gave her otherwise angelic face a strongly contrasting tomboyish appearance.

"Hey, dad. S'up, dimwit."

"_Garnet_," stressed Jacques, as if he were tired of saying it. "How often do I tell you not to call your brother names?"

On the other hand, Jaune learned long ago not to let what his sister says get to him. The name-calling went in one ear, out the other.

"But _D__ad_," whined Garnet as she took her sneakers out of the front closet. She was likely getting ready for her morning run. "He _is _a dimwit. Didn't he fail his last two tests?"

_Shoot_. He was trying to keep that from–

"Jaune, is this true?"

The blonde boy hoped that by avoiding his father's gaze, he would become invisible.

"…We'll talk about this later."

_Screw you, Garnet!_

Thankfully, the matter was dropped for the moment as the rest of the Arc family woke from their slumber and made their way to the kitchen.

"Morning."

"Good morning!"

"…Mornin'."

"Hn…"

"Good morning."

It didn't take long for all of his sisters to gather around the extra-large table. Within moments, the previously quiet space turned into a cacophony of dishes being arranged, bodies scrambling around and senseless chatter.

Their mother was the last to come into the room. "Good morning everyone."

The woman kissed her youngest, Jade, on the forehead and sat between Sapphire and her husband.

"You're taking Jaune to get his weapon made today, right?"

Garnet, who hadn't quite made her way out the door yet, exclaimed, "Yo! That's badass!"

Isabelle scowled. "Language, young lady."

"Sorry mom." Garnet didn't sound too sorry. She ran up behind her little brother and gave him a noogie. "You might be stupid, but at least you're getting a cool weapon!"

Isabelle nearly shrieked. "_Garnet!_"

Needless to say, Garnet's name was often shouted in the Arc household.

"_What, _you too? It's not my fault that his grades are sh–hmf!?"

Jaune was quick to cover the girl's mouth with his hands.

The damage was done. Isabelle's eyes narrowed. "Jaune… _what's this _about your grades?"

In a moment of weakness, the woman's only son looked to his father pleadingly.

Jacques sighed. "We can discuss your academics when we get back. Senji is a busy man, so we might be better off leaving early. Jaune, get in the car."

"Yes, dad!"

He didn't have to be told twice.

Isabelle frowned. "Don't think this is over, Jaune."

An uncomfortable concoction of guilt and foreboding swelled in his stomach.

"Yeah."

Once Jaune left the room, Isabelle leveled her fierce gaze on her husband.

"Jacques–"

"Yeah, I know."

This was probably his fault.

After kissing his daughters on the forehead, the man followed his son out the door.

As the two pulled out of the house's driveway, neither noticed the envelope sitting in their mailbox.

XX

After a long drive to the smithy and a shorter talk with the secretary, the Arcs found themselves seated in a consultation room, waiting for the head of the establishment to come in.

"It's been a while, Jack."

A man came in and took a seat behind the large oak bureau across from them.

Jaune was surprised by how young he looked; even though he and his dad were friends, the man didn't look a day over thirty. His sunset-red hair didn't have a single fleck of gray, and his ochre eyes held a certain youthfulness in them. He was dressed oddly, foregoing a shirt entirely and simply wearing a white haori draped over his shoulders.

His father got to his feet to shake the man's hand. "Senji. What do you think? Can you pull it off?"

The younger blonde didn't know what they were talking about, but he supposed they discussed everything on the phone beforehand.

The red-haired man and stretched his arms over his head. The action made his tempered frame ripple under his odd garb. "Well…" the man paused. "I'm certainly glad you brought this to me instead of someone else. While I can't promise you anything result-wise, I _can _promise you that any other smith this part of remnant would _wreck _this job."

"Of course. You _are _the great Senji Muramasa after all. How long would it take?"

Muramasa chuckled. He addressed the younger blonde. "It's gonna be _your _weapon, right kid? Then for a risky job like this, I'll need the go-ahead from you as well."

"I'm very sorry sir… I don't think I quite understand what's going on."

"…BAHAHA!" Muramasa burst out laughing. "_Sir? _The kid's all polite'n shit! Jack, I didn't think you had it in ya ta raise'm this way! –Oh… thinkin' on it, it's yer wifey's doin', 'innit?"

The man's sudden change of character caught Jaune flat-footed. He didn't know what to say.

Jacques shook his head with a small smile. "No, I think it was more Jeanne than anyone else."

"Oh, erm… right. Sorry." Just as quickly as it came, Muramasa's personality was back to how it was. "I'm… You have my condolences for your loss, Jack."

"It's alright, Senji. It's something we're trying to come to terms with."

Any positive energy in the room was long gone.

"So… what was it that's been decided?" Jaune tried to steer things back on course.

"Yes, sorry." Senji coughed and brought out three eighteen by twenty-four sheets he had rolled under his desk.

"Incredible," breathed Jacques in awe. "In such a short amount of time you've already…"

"Yeah, these are three plans that I drew up. The intention is to scrap one of Vale's most revered symbols of peace and use key parts of it to craft the best mecha-shift weapon I can." He landed an unreadable expression on the kid. "This is what I'm doing, and what _you're _responsible for making me do. What's your decision?"

Jaune didn't know what he should say. He turned to his dad who gave him an assuring smile.

"Yeah…–I mean, yes. We're in your care."

"Good!" The blacksmith got up from his chair and shook both of their hands. "I don't have any ongoing projects that currently require my direct supervision, so I would say the whole job, beginning to end shouldn't take more than a month and a half if everything goes the way it should."

Jaune didn't know if that was a good time or a bad one. His dad seemed to trust the guy, so that was enough, right?

Jacques hummed. "There _is _one thing I'm a little worried about though. There's no question that you're the best craftsman in the business when it comes to quality weapons, but will you be alright with the mecha-shift?"

Muramasa waved dismissively. "A huntsman's weapon is no simple _side project_. Your own was a special case as it hadn't anything too complicated to it. I was enough. _However, _you will find that a mecha-shift weapon of even subpar quality will have a team of engineers, mechanics, and designers working around the clock with the forge master."

The older Arc clasped the blacksmith's shoulder in a friendly way. "Thank you for this, Senji. The payment will be as we discussed?"

"Of course."

The two left the family heirloom with the muscular red-clad man. After saying their goodbyes, they made their way back to the car.

"…Hey dad." Jaune found the words to express his concerns to his father.

"Hm?"

"Luminosité Éternelle is supposed to be, like, super important right? I know you said that it was a little too old, but is it really alright to scrap it like this?"

Jacques put the keys in the ignition but didn't turn anything on. "There are reasons I have for this, Jaune: two, mostly. For one, going around with the damn thing would put a huge target on your back. Many dangerous people could easily recognise it and decide to kill you… or at the least, take advantage of you." Ozpin came to mind for the second case.

"And the second reason?"

"I really, _really_ don't like it."

"Oh."

They drove back home in silence.

XX

Jaune knew something was wrong the second he entered the house. There was malignant energy emanating from the living room.

"JAUNE. COME HERE."

His mother's voice was much scarier than he remembered.

He looked back to his father, only to be met with a look that said, "good luck" and a weak pat on the shoulder.

The blonde gulped and shuffled his way into the next room.

He wished he hadn't.

The glare his mother shot him was the look you gave to someone that murdered your first-born son –ignoring, of course, that said first-born son was him.

He knew where this was going the second he noticed his school's emblem on the manila folder placed on the coffee table.

"Do you know what this is, Jaune?"

"…Yeah."

"Do you know why I'm upset with you, Jaune?"

"…"

"Jaune."

"Yes, mom."

Her frown lessened, if just barely, as she picked up the envelope to flip through its contents one more time. "You've failed practically all of your courses. Why didn't you tell me this was happening? We could have gotten a tutor for you."

Jaune buried his fists into his thighs. "I can't… I couldn't. I have to make sure I'm ready for training."

"What are– JACQUES, GET IN HERE NOW!" though her scream was definitely heard by his sisters, they were accustomed that tone well enough to know that it would be in their best interest to stay away.

The man was calm when he came, but his closed eyes told the story on someone resigned to their fate. "Yes, dear?"

"You'll be reducing Jaune's training effective immediately. We need to schedule in time for a tutor."

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

To Jaune, it felt like the temperature in the room became glacial.

"Excuse me?"

"If he's going to be a huntsman, then he needs all the–"

"_Damnit, _Jacques! Get your head out of your ass! We all know that Jaune's trying his best to become a huntsman, but that doesn't mean he can shirk his duties as a student."

"He can't just be 'trying his best', Isabelle! THAT ISN'T GOOD ENOUGH!"

For a moment, Jaune feared the silence more than the screaming.

Isabelle tore her gaze off of her husband for a moment. "Go to your room, Jaune. We'll talk about this more tomorrow."

"But–"

"Go now, Jaune."

The boy dragged his feet up the creaky stairs, and almost flinched when his parents started to yell at each other again. He caught Garnet peering through the crack of her door with a watery frown.

"Jaune… I didn't mean for things to happen like this when I said those things earlier."

"Yeah, I know. It's okay."

Jaune forgave people really easily. For the rest of the Arc family, this was a fact. However, that didn't mean that Garnet felt any less terrible.

She left her room and embraced her brother in a tight hug in the hallway. "I'm your big sister. I'm sorry if I don't always act like it."

Jaune couldn't see her face, but it was unusual for her to act this gently. "…Garnet? Are you alright?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she held him tighter.

XX

Jaune's parents called him downstairs a few hours later. Thankfully, the screaming quieted early on, so the most that the kids could hear was the odd heated response.

Once again, he was alone in the living room with his parents. His mother's expression was complicated while his father's was somewhere between a pout and stoic.

"Jaune, your father and I have talked about this heatedly, and I… we…" she was having a hard time trying to say what she wanted. "We've decided that you'll be changing schools."

That's it?

"What your mother means to say," interjected Jacques, "is that you'll be going to a Primary Combat School from now on.

_That _wasn't expected. "Wait, you mean like Pharos academy in the city? Isn't that far?"

"No, not Pharos," Jacques replied. "But you've got the right idea. Do you know where Patch is?"

"Uh…" thought Jaune. "It's a nearby island, right? The ferry goes there."

"Yes. It's an hour both ways. You'll be going to school there."

Huh? "Why Patch, though? Actually, why am I changing schools at all?"

His mother answered, "Your father has had enough of a hand in your development. Seeing as how that didn't allow for you to sustain your grades," –Jacques looked away– "We'll be leaving your development as a huntsman to tried and true methods."

"And that's why we chose Patch," his father continued the thought. "Even though Pharos is in the city proper, I'd wager that Signal Academy is the best preparatory school in the kingdom."

"Wait, really?"

That was impressive, considering his father wasn't one to exaggerate much.

"Yeah, I was there myself before I transferred to Beacon, back in the day. I was even ranked number one in my draft class!"

"Draft class? What's that?"

"I guess that's something you should be aware of, now that you'll be going to a sanctioned combat school." Jacques leaned back into the couch. Evidently, he felt as if the conversation moved on to easier subjects, rather than discussing his lack of ability to nurture his only son. "I'll need to give you a little context for you to understand this properly."

"Is it that complicated?"

"No," the older man shook his head, "but it doesn't make much sense otherwise. You know how the kingdoms have peace treaties and alliances, right? Well, the four major academies –Shade, Haven, Alsi… er… Atlas Academy and Beacon– acknowledge a pact that supersedes those alliances."

Never would Jaune have thought that such a thing was possible. _Wait, really?_

The Arc continued, "This is crucial since it's the responsibility of those academies to raise our primary line of defense against the grimm: huntsmen and huntresses. The pact has many clauses that facilitate that, and that's where draft classes come in."

"I… see…"

The boy didn't, really, but he hoped that things would clear up if he let his father finish.

"Every student enlisted in a Primary Combat School is monitored by an association that gathers and compiles information like academic standing, combat ability, and so on. From this, they essentially rank all huntsman-hopefuls in order of what they think is 'potential'. This information is distributed to _all _the academies free of charge, regardless of the kingdom they're in."

Jaune was starting to understand, but… "So even if I'm from Vale, that doesn't mean that I won't go somewhere like Mistral or Vacuo?"

A nod. "Do you understand why this is important now? Being part of a draft class isn't just an honor. It's an _advantage_. You're not limited to where you can go for secondary combat school, and the higher you rank, the easier you'll be accepted."

The Arc boy bobbed his head. It was decided then. If he wanted to do his parents –and Jeanne– proud, he would have to aim for the top spot. If Signal on the island of Patch could help his dad become number one, then it would serve him well to go there too.

"I'll do my best to be first, then. No matter what." He thought back to how much he had been neglecting the rest of his learning, and promptly turned his gaze to his mother who, up until now, had remained quiet. "And mom… I promise I'll do everything I can to get better grades."

Isabelle didn't say anything. She didn't have to. A smile was all her son needed to know that she appreciated what he said.

He was an emotional kid, and sometimes that meant that he wasn't perfect. Some things slid past him. There wasn't a doubt in her mind, however, that her polite little boy always tries his hardest to please others.

For better or for worse.

"So, what now, then? When do I start?" The couple's only son was at a loss, mostly because his every waking hour wasn't about training anymore.

Or at least, he thought.

His father quickly dashed those hopes.

"The Tuesday after next, right at the beginning of the next term. After dinner, we can talk about our adjusted training arrangement."

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. Now go call your sisters and figure out what you want for dinner."

XX

Jaune gazed hopefully at the building in front of him, labeled only with a spray-painted sign that read "Spare Parts and Metalwork".

He'd been following the map his dad gave him for the past few hours, but for some reason, he kept getting lost. Either he would wind up at the wrong place, or he'd accidentally retrace his steps and circle back to where he started.

Still, the first impressions of the store weren't great. He'd never been to downtown Vale on his own before, but he figured that things wouldn't be this… run down.

He remembered his father's words from that morning.

_"Since you'll be going to a real combat school, they're legally required to make sure you wear armor during practical lessons. Go to this shop here; it's where I'd get my training gear while growing up."_

_"On my own?"_

_"Once you start at your new school, you'll be taking the ferry on your own, anyway. It'll be good for you to get used to traveling by yourself. If you run into any trouble, give me a call."_

Honestly, it wouldn't be surprising if the shop didn't exist anymore. Jacques Arc hadn't been here in what was probably decades.

…And what was he thinking, sending his twelve-year-old son to the city without supervision? How the hell did he sneak that one past his mother?

Nonetheless, he walked through the front door.

The interior was, unfortunately, just as bad as the outside. Junk pieces of metal were strewn across a dusty cement floor. Though there were actual shelves near the back, the items they held were sloppily positioned, and some had even tipped over onto the ground.

Just who ran this place?

Just as he was about to turn back and head home, something shiny was caught in the corner of his eye.

…A shin guard?

Jaune took a moment to re-examine the shop. Among the car parts and stray screws, there were actually entire sets of body armor. They looked old and worn, but the sheer variety was unquestionable.

So this really _was _where his dad bought his armor as a kid.

He picked up the first chest plate that seemed to be roughly the right size and slipped the buckle around his torso.

"Aw, darn it!"

The exclamation came from the other side of the shelves. It sounded like a girl.

Curiously, Jaune peeked his head around the corner to see a blonde around his age twiddling some weird metal thing around her fingers. "I thought for sure this was the right size, though…"

She noticed him. "Hey, who are you?"

The boy stepped out in full sight and scratched the back of his head. "Uhm, me?"

"Duh, who else? And why were you staring at me? You're weird."

Hey! That's not something you just come out and say! "I'm Jaune. And I'm _not _weird, I just heard a voice, and so I was curious to see who else was in this place. That's all."

The girl noticed that he was half-wearing a chest plate. "What's with the chunk of metal?"

She was pretty rude, wasn't she? "It's not a chunk of metal, it's body armour! I'm transferring to a huntsman primary school soon, so I was gonna pick up some new stuff for combat training. It's something we need to have!"

"Pfft."

"What was that!?"

"Oh nothing," she replied, though the tone of her voice indicated that it was clearly 'something'. "It's just that, I can tell you've never actually been in a combat class"

Was it really that obvious? When he was training with his dad, they never really used armour. They settled with the clothes on their backs and metal poles as weapons. "What? How? I mean… it's my first time at a place like this, so…"

"Oh, I get it– yowch!" she instinctively drove her fist into her palm, but forgot about the metal contraption she was holding. As a result, she jammed it right into her hand.

She shook it off and pretended it never happened. Jaune thought it was pretty impressive that she could do that. "You're starting your first year late, right?"

"Yeah."

"I see, I see."

When did he get sucked into talking with this strange girl, exactly? "You 'see'? See what?"

She didn't answer his question. "I'll help you out then. This place is kind of a dump, but there's definitely nicer stuff than that."

"…Huh?" he asked dumbly as the other blonde pushed him back to the other side of the shelf. She quickly stripped him of the metal chest plate and fastened a different one to him.

"This one, maybe? No…" She did the same with almost all of the armours present, whether they fit him or not. Eventually, she found one that she was pleased with.

"This is the one!"

It was elegant, if a little plain. A silver-colored plate covered his chest and sternum, while the gorget fit in an almost streamlined fashion around his neck. It fit comfortably over his black t-shirt.

"Erm... thank you for your help. I'll go find myself some shin guards and–"

She cut him off. "Nah, you don't really need all that stuff."

"What do you mean?" He thought that she was the owner's daughter, but she seemed to think that she knows a lot about the training that goes on in Primary Combat Schools.

"I don't know what it's like at the place _you're _going to, but for us, all you really need is one piece of armour to be allowed to do mock battles. Anything more than that would just slow you down since you have aura."

So she actually goes to a combat school too? He would suppose that she went to Pharos, since it was so close to here.

What she was saying _did _make sense to him, though. Thinking back on it, Whenever Jeanne or his father would go on missions, their armour was minimal and strangely placed.

Out of courtesy, he bowed. "Thank you very much for your help."

"Uh.. wha…" The girl probably wasn't used to people actually bowing to her.

"I'm going to take this then and–"

"Hooooold up there, bucko." She grabbed his arm before he could walk away. "I helped you, so that means that you have to help me, now!"

What?

XX

Jaune stared emptily at the pile of junk parts in front of him. The other blonde had her arms crossed under her yet-to-flourish bosom, glaring in turn at the same metal piece from earlier.

"So, what is it that I'm looking for again?"

A sigh. She showed him the part for what was probably the hundredth time. "A _spark plug_. You're looking for a spark plug that looks like this one."

"I still don't know what that is."

"It's something that I need to fix my motorcycle."

"Wait, _what_?" How old was she again? "You drive a motorcycle?"

She looked away. "Well, _no_, not yet… But I will! My dad has this old bike that doesn't work anymore, and he said that if I can fix it, he'd give it to me when I turn sixteen!"

She sounded awfully excited about it.

"I… see. And if you find this part here, the motorcycle will work again?"

The girl waved her hand dismissively. "Not even close. I have a _lot _of work to do, but… It's worth it!"

Jaune could've sworn her face was twinkling, with how bright her smile was. Hers was an expression of someone determined.

Without wasting a second more, he began to shuffle through the mess of metal parts. "Is it this thing here?"

"Let me see?... No, it's not wide enough."

This went on for another hour. The two covered close to the whole store before finally finding the piece in question.

"It's really it?... It is! I found it!" the blonde girl cheered as she held up a spark plug that was near identical to her damaged one.

"Wasn't it me that found it though?" Jaune liked to think that he wasn't sulking, but reality was often disappointing that way.

"Yeah, you're right," she acknowledged. She punched him on the shoulder. "Thanks, dude!"

He flashed a bright smile. "No problem! You helped me out too, I guess."

Jaune noticed the sky was changing to a warmer colour. "…It's getting late, so I'll need to head home. I live pretty far from here, after all."

The girl almost jumped. "Nuts! Me too! Aw, my dad'll kill me if I don't make it home for dinner!"

So she wasn't the daughter of the person that ran this place? Huh.

As she mumbled something about ferries and infrequent departures, she was almost caught off guard by the hand held out to her face.

"Hm?"

"Thanks again for helping me with the armour. Don't be a stranger if we meet again."

The girl shook the hand. "Yeah!"

She dropped some lien on the unoccupied cash register at the front of the store and b-lined to the exit. She froze and said over her shoulder, "My name's Yang, by the way. See you around, Jaune!"

Through the dusty windows, Jaune could make out Yang's figure sprinting down the street.

Yang, huh? If he had to describe her in one word, it would be 'exuberant'.

But in a good way.

XX

A deep breath.

"Ah…"

Jaune couldn't help his nerves as he stood at the door of a classroom he'd never seen before today. On the other side, there would be a teacher and numerous students that had dreams and aspirations similar to his.

The situation was very different than at his last school. There, it didn't matter if he made friends, or even what other people thought about him. _He _was different. He would only be at school for part of the day, so he never talked to anyone long enough to make friends. He wanted to be a huntsman, but everyone else was there to live normal, everyday lives.

It wasn't like that anymore.

He'd be a student here full time, just like the others in the class. He'd be given plenty of time to make as many friends as he wanted.

Additionally, everyone in the class had the same goal.

To be a huntsman.

When he talked to others his age, he just couldn't _connect _with them. The same could be said about his sisters, to a lesser degree. When your perception and aspirations were so far removed from those around you, it simply isn't possible to bond on the same level anymore.

There were people like him here.

Another deep breath.

He pushed the door open and walked with assured steps.

"…and so we'll have a new student transferring in today. You can come– oh, you already here."

Jaune blushed, mortified as he realized that he came in without being invited first.

He felt everyone's stares. The teacher's analytical gaze, as well as the curious looks from his soon-to-be classmates.

Said teacher, a scruffy dark-haired man in a cape, coughed into his hands. "Well… anyway, since you're here, why don't you introduce yourself to your peers?"

The blonde boy's gaze swept over the heads of the people he'd be spending the next six years of his life alongside. "My name is Jaune, of the Arc family." As he spoke, he began to feel some confidence returning to him. He made a conscious effort to keep a straight back. "I intend to spend these next years doing everything I can to become the best huntsman I can be. I hope that we can all get along."

Among the class, he heard a drone of "Hi, Jaune," and "Welcome". It sounded more habitual than genuine. Jaune felt as if the wind was taken from his sails.

The silence that followed was cut by the teacher opening a book against his desk. "Now that we got introductions over with, why don't–"

"Actually! I…" The blonde Arc didn't know what he was saying, or why he felt the need to interrupt the teacher to say it.

"I…" his voice found its confidence again. "I'm going to graduate first overall in our year's draft class!"

It was only after he said it that Jaune realized that he basically announced he'd be aiming to be better than everyone else present.

Compared to before, the murmurs that broke out were less of a drone, and more of an agitated cacophony of surprised tweens.

"Did he really just say that?"

"Isn't this like the one comic where the main character swears that he'll become Hokake?"

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it's pronounced, but…"

"He's got guts, I'll give him that."

"Come to think of it, didn't Xiao Long say the same thing last semester?"

"People like him kind of piss me off, to be honest."

…Jaune had a feeling that he killed his chance of making a good first impression.

XX

Qrow Branwen, teacher at Signal Primary Combat School, stumbled into the teacher's lounge with every intention to drop face-first into the communal sofa. For once, it wasn't because he was drunk.

What a rough day.

"Hm? Qrow?" a blonde man called out to him. "You okay?"

"Taiyang." Qrow's acknowledgement came out muffled by the pillows beneath him. "I'm fine. Just give me a minute."

Taiyang poured two cups of coffee and nudged the dark-haired man's head with one of them. "Wanna talk about it?"

With an unintelligible grumble, the man sat up and took the coffee.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

After a long sip, Qrow asked, "You know how I got a new kid in my class, right?"

"The Arc kid, right?"

"Yep. You know what the first thing he said was? That he'd graduate number one overall."

Taiyang chuckled. "Isn't that what Yang–"

"It's _exactly _what Yang said." Qrow evidently didn't find it as funny as his fellow professor. "I couldn't keep the class quiet for more than five minutes at a time; the little runts kept trying to ask him questions, like they couldn't figure out if they respected him for saying something so gutsy, or hated him for being such an arrogant prick."

"You shouldn't go around calling your students arrogant pricks, you know."

"Bah," was his answer. "As if the apple ever falls far from the tree."

"You still can't get along with Jacques, huh?"

"Nope."

"Figures."

The two sat in silence on the couch, occasional sips of coffee the only sounds to be heard.

"Do you think he'll do well?" asked Taiyang once his cup was emptied.

"The Arc kid? Dunno, we'll have to wait and see. I heard from his father that he fell behind in his studies."

"I meant in combat."

Qrow's expression became uncharacteristically even. "That? Well, I mean… If Jacques trained him, then I'm sure he'll be fine.

XX

Yang, wearing plain black leggings and a brown t-shirt, was crouched by her locker to put on her outdoor shoes –a pair of leather boots. Half the school day was over, and she fully intended to take advantage of the first recess of the semester.

"Yang, you coming?"

Her friends called out to her from further down the hall.

"Just a second!"

She took the elastic from her wrist and tied the length of her hair in a ponytail. As she did so, she made her way towards the other girls.

She was hugged by a short brown-haired girl. "_Yang_, where have you been all break? You didn't come hang out with us, like _at all! _Was it a _boy_?"

"What?" at twelve years of age, Yang hadn't yet begun to understand why a woman would be attracted to the other sex. "Ew, no. I was working on the motorcycle."

"That thing again?" She could almost _feel _the others rolling their eyes.

She shook it off, of course. They just didn't know how awesome her bike was.

"Hey, did you hear about the new kid?"

It wasn't one of her friends that said that. It was one of the boys from the other class talking to someone else.

"No, what about him?"

"The first thing he said when he showed up was 'I'm gonna be first overall'. Can you believe that?"

"Whoa. Do you think he was serious?"

"No clue. We have combat training tomorrow, though, so we'll find out."

Her brown-haired friend shook her shoulder gently. "Yang?"

"Uh, sorry. Did you say something?"

"No," she replied. "Are you alright?"

The blonde stared at the two boys further out for an instant longer before breaking her gaze. "Yeah, I'm fine. Now, who wants to spar!"

"Urg."

"Gross."

"Really?"

"Again?"

Yang pouted. What were they doing here to begin with, if they didn't want to get better at beating things up?

Their loss.


	3. School days

(A/N) Happy new year everyone (probably, depends on where you are I guess).

Roses are red, violets are blue, this one was supposed to be up before I started my finals, but I guess this will do.

My poetic talent is unmatched, I know.

Anyway, the next chapter is the start of the first _big _arc that will eventually tie into the start of canon. I was contemplating just getting into the swing of things and kicking it off at Beacon right away, but... that didn't feel right. This chapter will give everyone a good idea of where things are heading.

Enjoy!

XX

Jaune fidgeted on his feet, feeling self-conscious with his classmates' collective gazes planted firmly on his person. It didn't help one bit that he was being surrounded by everyone in his _year, _rather than just his class.

The whole grade stood by the sidelines of what was likely a sparring ring, though Jaune couldn't be certain; he'd never seen a real one, after all.

There was a teacher accompanying them, but not the same one from the other day. This teacher was a blonde and had a much broader frame.

"Okay, everyone," the man said loudly enough to be heard over the chattering students. "We're sparring today, so we'll be doing shorter warmups."

Jaune didn't know much about this school's warmups, but judging by the numerous cries of relief, he could assume that the other kids weren't too fond of them.

"We'll start off light!" continued the teacher. "Everyone team up in pairs and do the usual run of stretches."

The young Arc panicked internally, not knowing what said "usual run" of stretches even was. It didn't help that he couldn't muster the courage to ask his semi-hostile peers to team up with him.

"Jaune." To his surprise, the teacher waved him over.

"Yes, teacher?"

The man upturned his lips in a disarming smile. "You're kind of being thrown into the swing of things right off the bat, sorry. I'm Taiyang Xiao-Long, but you can just call me Mr. Tai like everyone else. Since you don't know the routine yet, I'll have Yang here," –he waved to an empty space beside him– "be your partner for today. She can show you the ropes. Is that fine with you?"

Yang? Could it possibly…

Jaune tried to look for the girl he met in town, but he couldn't see her. Or… anyone, really. Who was Mr. Tai pointing to, anyway?

"Who?"

The teacher seemed to have just noticed that there wasn't anyone at his side. "Ya– _Hey! _Yang, get your butt over here!"

Further out, a familiar-looking girl whipped her head to the teacher, arms around the head of another brown-haired girl.

"Oh, uhm… sorry, Dad."

Jaune could only lamely note that, now, at least, he knew who her actual father was.

XX

Like everyone else, Yang was staring at the new kid. The difference was that she couldn't care less about what he said about his graduation ranking.

She said the same thing, after all.

What she _did _care about, was that she recognized the boy. He had that unique mop of golden-blond hair and a chest plate that she _distinctly _remembered picking out. Not only did he transfer to Signal, of all places, but it turned out to be _him _who caused such a commotion the other day.

"Oh? What's this?" chimed her brown-haired friend in a childish and mocking voice. "Is Yang looking at _boys _now? I thought you weren't 'into that stuff', huh?"

Yang turned to the shorter girl with a flat look. Yeah, it would take a stronger jibe than that to get to her. "What are you even _saying_, Mocha."

Mocha brushed a strand of her shoulder-length hair behind her ear. "I dunno… you tell _me_."

The blonde shook her head, but dropped the issue.

From the corner of her eye, she saw her dad trying to get her attention. "Yang!" he called out to her with a raised hand, "can you come here for a second?"

"Coming," she answered.

Yang patted Mocha on the shoulder and tried to approach her father, but Mocha held her back by the arm.

"Saaaaay, Yang. He's the boy you said you ran into in Vale the other day, right? The day your dad blew up on you for getting home late?"

Yang's eyes narrowed. Her friend was too whimsical sometimes. "And?"

"Betcha Mr. Tai would like to know that his daughter's crushing on a bad-boy." The brown-haired girl's smile told her that she was having _way _too much fun teasing her.

So what? It's not like it was actually true. The problem was that her dad would believe it. "You wouldn't."

She would.

"I would."

The blond-haired girl clicked her tongue and walked away to reach her father, but otherwise ignored her in hopes that the discussion would be forgotten.

"Yeah dad?"

He pointed at Jaune. "The new student looks pretty nervous. He won't know the routine stretches, so do you mind being his partner?"

Jaune was cool in her books, so she wouldn't mind not doing warmups with her friends for once. "Sure thing."

"Great, thanks."

While Taiyang went to grab the boy, Mocha was making exaggerated gestures with her mouth, likely miming the action of shouting out to their teacher.

Eventually, Mocha must have realized that Yang wasn't having it, because she decided to up her game.

"Hey! Mr–"

Faster than she could react, Yang had crossed the distance between them and clamped her hands over her friend's mouth.

"Don't you _dare_."

Mocha's muffled laughs were heard from under her hand.

_Damn, this little–_

"Yang, get your butt over here!"

Both of them stopped their squirming.

"Oh, uhm… sorry, Dad."

Yang released her grip on Mocha, shooting the still-laughing girl a dirty look. "You suck."

Her friend just turned her head in an effort to quiet her giggles.

The blonde forced a smile back on her face, and ran up to the boy who stood next to her father. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Yang, it really _is _you!" he answered back.

Taiyang crossed his arms. "Huh? So you two already knew each other?"

Jaune nodded. "Yeah. We ran into each other when I–"

"I talked with him during recess yesterday!" was the girl's panicked response. The Arc didn't know what she was on about, but he didn't think it was big enough of a deal to correct her.

"Oh. Alright then." The teacher seemed to have bought it easily enough. "Get along, you two. We'll be sparring right after."

Jaune could've sworn he heard the brown-haired girl groan.

The newly formed pair joined their classmates in the open field. The boy asked his partner, "So, where do we start?"

"First thing's the big muscle groups, then we work our way to the smaller ones. We do this in pairs so that while one person's doing the warmup, the other can make sure they're doing it right," she explained. "I'll go first; watch how I do it then we can switch."

Once she saw that he understood, She brought her knee to her chest to stretch her glutes. "So why'd you end up going to school on _Patch _of all places? Most people would go to the city, especially if it's halfway through the year like this."

"Well, my dad actually graduated from here, so I guess it's because of that. As for why I didn't start earlier…" he trailed off. He wasn't too comfortable with talking about the circumstances surrounding the decision to have him go to a proper huntsman academy, so he diverted, "Hold on, is it really okay to be talking right now? I thought you said that I should spot you to make sure that we do things properly."

She huffed. "Well, I am, aren't I?"

Jaune blinked. She was _right,_ actually. Though he didn't have much else to compare to, her form looked impeccable. "I mean… yeah?"

"Cool," she concluded simply. Lowering her leg, she motioned for Jaune to switch positions with her.

He was a little awkward at first since he wasn't used to the stretch, but he quickly found his balance. Offhandedly, Yang took note of how fit he was for his age when his arms flexed to hold his raised knee in place.

"So. Are ya any good in a fight?" she had to ask.

"Uhm… I guess?" Once again, he didn't have many readily available comparisons.

"Alrighty then!" Yang slammed her fists together violently, startling him enough to make him lose his balance a little.

"What?"

"Waddaya say? We can be sparring partners today."

Jaune knew something was up when his classmates' antagonistic glares morphed into pitying ones.

"…Sure?" he said tentatively.

His warmup partner's bright smile made him forget his uneasiness.

XX

Yang stood in front of him, fists raised in a fighting stance. Despite her obvious intentions, her grin was still as easygoing as it was earlier. In a wide circle around them, the other kids observed with varying expressions.

"Ouch, Yang right off the bat? That's tough, man."

"He won't think he's hot stuff for much longer, that's for sure."

"He kinda pisses me off, but I still feel bad for him, you know?"

"I don't even think anyone's actually beaten her all year!"

The not-so-quiet murmurs didn't do much for Jaune's confidence, but he wouldn't back out now. Even if Yang was some sort of super-fighter, he'd still do his best!

To his chagrin, their teacher shared the same look as the other kids. He was likely thinking that pitting him up against the best fighter in their grade on his first day was a bad idea. "Are you sure about this, Jaune? You're still adjusting to things, so maybe it'll be better if you fight Yang after getting a better idea of how the others do it."

He had a point. Jaune had never even _seen _a sparring match outside of his own with his dad, and Yang had volunteered them to go before everyone else.

"It's fine, Mr. Tai. I'm good to go!" he punctuated with a self-assured smile.

Admittedly, he didn't like being underestimated all that much.

"Aw, yeah!" Yang pumped her first. "That's what I'm talking about!"

Getting the chance to get a good look at his opponent, the Arc boy noticed something. "Hey, Yang. Aren't you wearing armour?"

And really, it didn't look like she was wearing _anything _that could be considered protective. While he wore thick cotton pants, military boots, and a chest piece, all his opponent wore were booties, slacks and a brown jacket– which didn't even look to be made of any sort of leather.

"Hm? Oh." She caught on to what he was saying. She unzipped her jacket to show off the chainmail covering her torso. "Don't worry about me! I don't think armour's really my style, so I keep it hidden.

The poor boy could only nod with a furious blush on his face. She was wearing armour over her chest, so she didn't flash him… but how was he supposed to know that! He damn near had a heart attack!

As if the man could sense what he was thinking, Taiyang coughed to get both of their attention.

Oh yeah. This was his daughter.

"Listen up, Jaune, I'll go over the rules quickly since it's your first time here." Taiyang pointed at the distinct gouge in the earth that circled the makeshift arena. "If you step out of bounds, that counts as a loss. Other than that," –he took out a scroll from his pocket– "I'll be keeping track of both of your aura levels, so the first person who's aura drops below a certain point loses. To keep things safe, we'll cap it off at twenty-five percent instead of the usual fifteen, and –most importantly– make sure to _listen_ when I tell you to stop. Did you catch all of that?"

Jaune raised his hand, not knowing what else to do to ask his question.

"Yes?"

"Are we fighting barehanded?"

The teacher palmed his forehead. "Oh, that's my bad. One second, you two."

Taiyang went to grab the cart that sat in the corner of the field. Jaune noticed it earlier but paid it no mind when they didn't seem to be using it for anything.

Getting a better look at it now, the boy could now see that it wasn't so much a cart as it was a metal rack on wheels. It was lined with _actual _weapons, ranging from simple one-handed swords to more exotic war fans.

Taiyang leaned his arm against the rack. "In your fourth year, you'll be making your own weapons, customized to fit you personally. Until then, Signal supplies its students with a wide variety of practice weapons so that they can experiment with what they feel the most comfortable with."

Jaune took a moment to consider what that meant for him, seeing as a professional weaponsmith was making his weapon already.

Yang sauntered over, grabbed a pair of steel gauntlets, and got back into position.

Her father shot her a disapproving look. "_Or_ you can just use the same thing all the time."

She stuck her tongue out at him, earning laughter from the onlooking students.

Jaune took a glance at what was available to him. If she wanted to see what he could do if he went all out, then he should…

He grabbed a long polearm closely resembling a pike.

"I hope you know how to use that thing!" taunted his opponent. Or… maybe she was being serious. If you _didn't _know how to use one, maybe a pike wasn't the right weapon to go with. Luckily for him, though…

Jaune didn't say anything in response. Instead, he held his weapon comfortably under his arm.

"So, are you two ready then?" asked their teacher-turned-proctor.

They both nodded.

Taiyang pressed a button on the scroll making it beep. "Then… begin!"

While Jaune chose to hold his ground, Yang bum-rushed her way into his guard in a split second. Her arm came up to catch his chin in a vicious uppercut, and it would have succeeded if his reaction time were any slower.

Instead, he thrust his weapon forward as he leaned his torso out of the way. To avoid getting hit, Yang was forced to jump back to where she started, relinquishing her advantageous positioning.

"You're fast," observed Jaune simply.

"Heh. Not too shabby yourself."

And she meant it. Usually, a surprise attack like that ends it.

Jaune clenched both fists around the shaft of his polearm. Taking a deep breath, he forced his coiled muscles to relax a bit. It was _his _turn to go on the attack.

"Hah!"

With a cry, Jaune's legs vaulted him the air towards his sparring partner. Though a pike was primarily used as a stabbing weapon, he had it raised over his head for a downward slash.

Disregarding the discrepancy between intended purpose and use, overextending your weapon and moving it too far from your body was generally a terrible idea. It was practically _begging _the enemy to put you out of your misery. Thankfully, the young huntsman-in-training was well aware of this and had in fact _planned _for it.

Almost on instinct, Yang's gauntlets rose above her torso to deliver a devastating right cross on his airborne and exposed person. The result was that her sides were left open for a counter, not that her opponent was in any position to take advantage of that.

Or so she thought.

Midair, Jaune twisted his body and _kicked _her ribs.

While he was alright after landing, albeit unbalanced and on all fours, Yang was having a much rougher time of it. The hit had her tumbling to the ground dangerously close to the bounded area.

The onlookers were speechless.

From where she was in the crowd, Mocha whispered to a pig-tailed girl, "Hey, hey. Did that really just happen?"

"I…think so?"

Another student shouted eloquently, "Holy crap!"

Having undeniable proof right in front of them that the "new kid" wasn't just full of hot air, the student body found themselves in begrudging awe.

"Hehe," chuckled Yang as she pushed herself to her feet. "Good one, champ. You're not getting another–"

SLAM

She was forced to cut her words short and jump out of the way when Jaune's pike came swinging down on where she was just standing. To her –and everyone else's– surprise, the strength put into the attack sent a gust of wind blowing in every direction.

Beads of sweat trickled down Yang's chin.

He wasn't done yet, though. Pinching the spear under his arm, he twirled and took two steps toward her new position. The length of his weapon allowed him to reach her with just that.

Yang wasn't the top of her grade for nothing, though. Taking advantage of the protection her gauntlets provided, she palmed the pike off course and regained the close-quarter advantage. She proved once again that she was faster than he was, driving a flurry of punches into his unguarded stomach.

The boy pushed off with his spear the moment he was able, but the damage had been done. His aura must have taken a real beating after that.

Both of them were breathing heavily. Their heavy pants were the only thing heard over the dead silence of their audience.

Taking Yang by surprise, Jaune _threw _his pike. The time it took for her to react and sidestep the torpedo-like projectile was enough for the boy to close the gap, grab her by the collar of her jacket and–

A whistle blew.

"That's enough!" shouted Taiyang. "Yang wins by ring out!"

Huh?

Looking at his feet, Jaune noticed that in the heat of the moment, he actually forgot to keep track of where the inbound was. When he was widening his stance in order to flip Yang on her back, he must have stepped over the line.

His cheeks flushed. What an embarrassing way to lose.

"Great job, both of you." Despite the way that the match ended, Taiyang sounded like he really meant that. "Jaune, you lost because of a silly mistake, but that's something that will fix itself with time. Your ending aura levels were twenty-seven percent for Yang and fifty-nine percent for Jaune."

Darn! That means that he was really close, right?

"Wait, only fifty-nine?" Yang was focused on something else. "But I thrashed him!"

"Not as badly as _he _did _you_, apparently," her father joked.

As Yang pouted, her sparring partner explained, "I have pretty high aura levels, actually. You really _did _hit hard."

That seemed to console her… somewhat.

After that performance, his classmates were quick to congratulate him, despite the loss. Was this what it felt like to prove yourself?

After that, the rest of the kids in his year took their turns to spar against one another. There weren't any ring outs after his own, he noted.

After each match, Mr. Tai would take the time to go over what each student did well and what they should improve. Strangely enough, he took much more time doing this with the others than with Yang and himself.

Before he knew it the class was over. The students slowly trickled out of the sparring field and back into the walls of the academy building for their next subject.

Jaune was about to follow their lead and get changed, but he was held up by Mr. Tai.

"Jaune. Can I talk to you for a moment?"

_That _got him worried. His self-conscious nature brought upon by recent academic failures made him fear that he didn't live up to standards on his first performance.

Was _that _why Mr. Tai didn't say much to him during the match? Was it because the man feared that the criticisms were too embarrassing to say in front of everyone else?

"You were taught by your dad, right?" asked the man.

"Uhm… yeah?"

"…"

_Say something!_

"Tell, me," Taiyang paused for _way _too long, "do you have any intention of joining our tournament roster in your fourth year?"

Jaune didn't know how to answer that question, because he didn't even know what that was. "I… don't… know?"

"You don't know?" the older blonde parroted.

"I don't know what it is, I mean."

"Oh." For some reason, Taiyang seemed relieved. "Let me explain, then."

The man took out his scroll one more time, pulling up Signal's school website on his browser. He turned the device towards his student, showing him a page titled, "Tournament registration".

"This right here is something a few of you will be considering in three years' time," presented the man. "Once you get your huntsman weapon graded and approved by the school board, you'll be allowed to enter a yearly tournament that's held internationally."

Jaune was baffled. He could only _imagine _the magnitude something like that entailed.

Taiyang continued, "Once tryouts are done, the final team is pitted against other schools within the kingdom, then a final bracket takes place that implicates the four finalists from Vale, Mistral, Vacuo, and Atlas."

Jaune felt like he understood a little better now, but… "Why do you ask, Mr. Tai?"

"You said you want to be the top-ranked graduate from your year, right? From what I saw today, I think you have the potential to do it, if you keep putting work in."

The boy's eyes widened.

Taiyang placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "The amount of recognition you'd get for something this big isn't anything to scoff at. In fact, I'd say that _most_ –if not all– first overall picks are chosen from the top four competing teams."

"Signal's going to be in the top four?"

"I don't know," the man grinned. "You tell me."

XX

"That. Was. So. Awesome!"

After getting changed, it barely took any time at all for Yang to track him down, and even less to start gushing about how great the fight was. Honestly, it was surprising to hear her in such a good mood, considering her reaction post-match.

"Man! I know I won and all –I'm just that great, I admit– but that was _super _close," she continued despite the lack of verbal feedback from her previous opponent. "How much aura do you have, anyway? Usually, I'd be able to snag the win in _max _two hits. Oh yeah! Speaking of hits, how come you–"

Jaune wasn't trying to ignore her, really. She was just saying _way _too much at once for him to process. The more she said, the more he panicked, and more of what she said slipped by him _because _he was panicking.

As it would turn out, they shared the following period, since the girl didn't split off to go somewhere else. To his dismay, they'd made it all the way to the classroom, and he still had no idea what she was saying.

"–and then _I _said, 'now _that's _a katana!'. Jewel steel, that little string on the end, the whole shtick!" She seemed to have finished –and started, at some point– a story that he caught no part of. How rude of him.

"Uhm…" he tried to comment. Was he even supposed to comment? He sure hoped not, because he was drawing a blank. Short on comments, he was.

"So what did my dad say?"

Oh! He knew this one, at least– it didn't seem to have anything to do with what she just said though.

"He was asking if I thought about joining a Tournament something-or-other–"

"What!?" shrieked his fellow blonde before he could finish. "No fair! He hasn't asked _me _to join the school team yet, how come he asked _you?_"

There probably wasn't any bad blood in her words; she was just being a jealous kid.

"Well, he didn't really ask me to _join_," he rebutted. "It's just that he told me to think about it before I become a fourth-year."

Yang pouted, but she dropped the subject.

"Alright, class, take a seat."

It was the teacher from the other day, Mr. Branwen. The words probably sounded as awkward in his head as they did coming out of his mouth. He seemed like the kind of person that wasn't comfortable with the whole 'teaching' thing.

No one disobeyed him, though, as the whole class was seated in short order. Was he popular with his students, maybe?

The scruffy-looking man shuffled through his binder, pulling out specific notes as he came across them. He wrote down some kind of math formula on the blackboard behind him. "We'll carry on from where we left off last time. Does anyone want to try their hand at finding the algebraic solution?

Jaune gulped.

XX

He sulked as some brown-haired girl –Yang's friend, supposedly– patted him on the back encouragingly.

"There, there, Yang's not-boyfriend, it's just math. It's not like there are huntsman field tests that need you to be able to calculate the slope of a graph anyway."

"Why were there so many letters…" Jaune whimpered to himself.

Yang's ponytail bobbed as her neck twitched ever so slightly. As deadpan as she could muster, she droned, "He's not my boyfriend, Mocha."

"Yeah, that's what I just said."

"Tch."

As the two bickered, the blond boy was allowed to remember the horrendous events that transpired during Mr. Branwen's class less than half an hour before it ended. Everything was going fine –more or less– until the teacher asked him to solve a question on the board. What followed was a seventeen-minute torture session of him fumbling through something he had never seen in his life while his classmates made fun of him every time he needed to be corrected.

The worst part was that the man wouldn't let him go. He was forced to finish the problem from start to finish no matter how many tries it took.

It was safe to say that any respect he managed to garner had been thrown to the wind with great prejudice.

Yang realized he was getting into a mopey headspace again, and did her best to cheer him up. "Hey, so what if everyone was laughing? They were just being jerks. I'm sure they couldn't do much better themselves."

"You were laughing too, though."

"Haha. Yeah."

"You know, if you need help studying I could for sure help you out during lunch," offered Mocha. While Jaune was caught off guard by the sudden kindness offered, Yang was skeptical of her real intentions.

"Wow, really? If it's fine with you, then…" the Arc graciously accepted the offer.

"Don't worry about it. I'm pretty smart with this stuff, and I already told Yang that we'd be holding pair review sessions with each other. We can make a study group out of it!"

Long-haired blonde choked on air. Since when did–

The words were slung right back down her throat when the boy grabbed both of them by the hand with a huge smile. "I'm so relieved! To be honest, I was freaking out about what I'd do about school. But if both of you are willing to give me a hand, then I'm in your debt. Thank you."

It was recess, so immediately following his word of thanks, Jaune went off to do… something.

Point being, Yang and Mocha were left alone in the school hallway.

The brown-haired girl was pulled into a quick headlock.

"Ow! Watch it!"

"What. Was. That." Ground out the stronger of the two.

"What was _what_?"

The headlock got tighter.

"Okayokay_okay!_ I get it, just let me go!"

Yang relented and released her prisoner with a loud harrumph. Mocha held the back of her head gingerly.

"So, what's this _study session _we've got planned."

Mocha could tell by the tone of voice that her friend wasn't too happy with her putting words in her mouth.

"What's the problem? Do you _want _your boyfriend to fail?"

"He's not my– darn it, _that's _what you're doing, isn't it? You're just not done teasing me about this whole thing. You know my dad won't actually believe you, right?"

The brunette stuck her tongue out playfully.

She got a frustrated kick in the shin for her efforts. "Fine. You're right, I guess I'd feel bad if someone as strong as him was held back just because of some stupid grades."

Yang left to go find her locker, but the joking "I'm watching you" hand gestures she was making evidenced that she wasn't too mad about being lead by the nose.

Now alone, Mocha mischievous grin morphed into a smile of relief.

It was working.

Yang was her best friend for years, but they'd been drifting apart as of late. Not because they didn't like each other, but more because they were learning that they had different interests as they grew up. Yang was all about being a huntress, and while she came to the same school as her, she didn't find fighting or the idea of hunting grimm appealing at all. In the same manner, she loved books, boys, and other girly things, but Yang seemed to not want to touch any of that stuff with a ten-foot pole.

It was probably when Yang found that motorcycle that the gap between them widened the most. If the blonde wasn't training, then she was rummaging for spare parts that she could use. The only time they actually talked is when they went out of their way to find each other between classes at school.

She teased her friend a lot, sure, but it was mostly out of fear. It was a fear that if she didn't find _any _excuse to socialize with Yang, then she'd lose her forever.

This study group was a last-ditch effort of sorts. She was sure that, if not for Jaune's fortuitous lack of academic sense, their relationship would crumble by the end of the year.

Mocha's smile widened. She would have to find a way to thank Jaune at some point.

XX

"Yo."

Jaune jumped when Yang unexpectedly walked up behind him and slapped him squarely in the back.

"H-hey!" he protested weakly. He bent over to pick up the things he dropped in his moment of surprise.

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized half-heartedly. Yang didn't really know why she even walked up to him in the first place. She saw him fumbling around his locker, and the next thing she knew…

The girl peered over his shoulder and locked in right away on the miscellany of workout gear strewn across the hallway. There was a digital activity tracker, the newest model athletic sneaker, high-density resistance bands… "Man, that's some serious stuff you're carrying around with you, blondie. What's up with that?"

Jaune resisted the urge to point out that she was probably blonder than he was. "Do you really think it's strange? It's just my normal exercise equipment."

Disregarding the price tag that probably came with it, "But _why _did you bring it to school? You can't wear it to combat class, and we're already done for today anyway."

He scratched the back of his head, feeling a little self-conscious. "Well, it's recess right now, isn't it? I thought that I'd take the time to get some training in."

The blank look his classmate shot him made him reconsider his intentions. Was working out during the free period prohibited? Was he committing some sort of faux-pas that he wasn't aware of?"

"You want to work out _again_?"

Her incredulous tone almost made him miss the discrepancy. "What do you mean 'again'?"

Now they were staring at each other like a pair of braindead goldfish.

"Combat class, this morning," explained Yang.

"What about it?"

"…" She thought about it for a moment, then narrowed her eyes. "Don't ya consider going at 'er with yours truly a workout?"

Jaune didn't understand the hole he was digging himself into. "Uh… no?"

He could've sworn he saw a flicker of red in her eyes. Weird.

"Oh?" Her tone was cold. Did he say something he shouldn't have?

His eyes widened. "I didn't mean it like that, honest! You're an amazing fighter."

Her glacial expression thawed a little. "So what _did _you mean?"

"Sparring is important, and the best way for us to get better at fighting, but it's not enough if we want to get stronger!" The passion in Jaune's voice caught Yang off guard. "That's why we gotta train our bodies if we want to become the best hunters that we can be."

She didn't say anything, so Jaune took her silence as her being unconvinced. Not one to be disheartened, however, he tried a different angle. "I made two promises to my dad when I was enrolled here. The first was that I would keep my grades up, and the second was that I wouldn't slack on my training. My old man is actually a really strong huntsman, so I'm sure that his methods will–"

"Let me join you."

"Excuse me?" He definitely wasn't expecting her to cut him off. He hoped that his choice of words wasn't received poorly.

His fellow blonde's cheeks had a light dusting of pink as she avoided his eyes bashfully. She wouldn't say so out loud, but not only did she hold the new kid to a higher level of respect, but she also began to doubt her own conviction to become a huntress. If he was willing to go to such lengths, then she too, would… "I said, let me join you! It's no fun working out alone, right?"

He smiled. It was kind of dorky, in a way, but it was a kind smile nonetheless.

"Yeah," he replied simply.

XX

Much to his joy, the rest of his first semester at Beacon went by smoothly. It had become apparent that his mother had the right idea, since his grades did, in fact, pick back up. Between his training sessions during recess with Yang and his study sessions with her and Mocha, he was able to juggle his responsibilities as a young huntsman in training admirably. As the weeks became months, he eventually started to feel like he'd properly settled into a regular school life.

Despite all of that, he walked out of his year-end examination room with clammy palms and pale skin.

"Come on, dude, why are you always so… jittery?" asked Yang as she and Mocha followed. "Didn't you do super well on the last test?"

"Yeah. Your work ethic is pretty solid, and the only reason you weren't doing so great at first is because you didn't have things sorted out for yourself," chipped in the brunette. "I seriously have no idea why you still panic over these things."

Jaune sighed tiredly. "I dunno. For some reason, I can't rest easy until my grades come in."

Yang laughed at him– good-naturedly, of course. "Pfft. Loser."

"Sooooo…" drawled Mocha. She had enough of all this school-talk. They were done with all of that now, darn it! "What are we doing over the break?"

"I was planning on spending some time on the bike," Yang thought aloud, "but only a little on the side. You guys should totally come over– Oh! Or we can grab my sis and head down to Vale!"

"Sounds good to me." Mocha beamed. It was… nice that Yang was spending more time with them recently. "My sister's spending the break with her friends from Pharos. How about you, Jaune? Any idea what we should do?"

The two girls looked to the sole boy of their group. It honestly didn't occur to him that they would still hang out outside of the school year. Sure, he spent time with them outside of class throughout the semester, but this and that was different. "Wait. Me too?"

"Yeah. We're friends. That's what friends do."

The way Yang said it was pretty condescending, like she was explaining something to a two-year-old. Still, Jaune couldn't find it in him to be annoyed. In fact, he was happy.

Really, really happy.

"That's right... We're friends."

They were his friends. They were _real _friends; the first he'd ever had. It was a novel experience, and he liked how it felt.


	4. Friends of friends

(A/N) Oh cool. An update.

After a hectic couple of weeks, I have found the time to update all of my stories. After realizing that those hectic times are likely to return, however, I've decided that having shorter but more frequent updates would be preferable to longer chapter updates that make you question whether the story is dead or not.

The meat and potatoes of the story approach faster than you think.

Anyway, please enjoy and drop a review to let me know what you think. It goes a long way to help me improve as an author and to help keep this story on track. Actually that goes for _all _my stories. I'm just one guy, so it's hard to keep track of everything sometimes.

So... yeah. Have a nice... Wednesday?

Is updating on a Wednesday strange, or is it just me?

XX

"Hey, pipsqueak. Who's blondie number two?"

Jaune stared at the woman owlishly before realizing she was talking to him.

"Who, me?" he pointed to himself.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Yes, you."

Mocha, standing between Jaune and Yang, pouted with a quiet huff. "Stop calling me _pipsqueak_ Coco, I'm almost as tall as mom now! And this is my friend Jaune! Are you ready to go yet?"

When their break started, Mocha had sent both blondes a group message the very next morning asking if they wanted to hang out in the city. The trio had agreed to meet at a middle ground –Patch– in the afternoon, so that they could all make their way down together.

It was only once they met face to face that Mocha said that her older sister wanted to come with them and that she needed to "pick something up". Naturally, that meant that they had to stop by Mocha's house to get her.

Unfortunately, Mocha forgot to mention that Coco was… a little difficult.

"Hm? No, give me a sec. I need to get changed."

"What? _Why? _You have a coat on and everything!" whined her little sister. She had the opportunity to go out with her friends today, so she did _not _appreciate Coco leaving bad impressions.

Coco looked absolutely affronted. "You want me to go out in public wearing _this?_ You know this jacket is from, like, last _spring_, right?"

The younger brunette buried her face in her hands. "Just… go. Hurry up."

The three soon-to-be second-years gathered in the Adel residence's foyer, awkwardly waiting for the elder sister to get changed so that they could leave.

"I'm sorry about her," apologized Mocha, catching Jaune a little off guard. It was usually someone else's job -notably Yang's– to be sorry about _her, _not the other way around.

"It's… fine?" answered the boy, admittedly a little caught off guard by the family's eccentricities.

Yang decided to fill him in on what was apparently common knowledge for the rest of them. "Coco is a bit of a fashion freak, so she always has to be on… 'fleek', as she calls it. I'm betting she wants to come with us because it lets her go shopping with the excuse that she's looking after us."

"Mom says Coco has too many clothes," added Mocha.

"I don't," denied the girl in question as she joined them in the room. "You kiddies ready to go?"

XX

As was expected, their day out was effectively turned into "_Let's watch Coco buy new shoes_ day".

Well, more like clothes in general. It just so happened that there was a particular pair of boots she had her eyes on, so that was apparently what they would spend their day trying to do.

_Trying _to get the boots.

"I don't get it," spoke Jaune. "If you know you want them, why don't you just buy them? Why are we waiting in line?"

"_Because_," answered Coco slowly, as if talking to a child, "everyone here," she waved to the crowd, "wants the boots. The line is to buy them."

"Why don't you just come back later, then?"

The brunette looked to her sister and the blond girl, her face saying "can you believe this guy?"

"I can't come back later. It'll be sold out by then."

His jaw dropped. "That quickly!?"

Yang laughed. "You can't spell 'fashion craze' without 'crazy'."

"I mean, you _can_, but you've got the right idea."

The blonde gave Mocha the stink eye.

"So… Why do _we _have to be here?" Jaune finally made his point.

"'Cuz I'm looking after you. Duh."

None of them were impressed with the answer.

Yang walked away. "I'm leaving."

"Same."

"Peace."

"Wait!" the older Adel grabbed them all by the back of their shirts. "If you leave, I lose my alibi! I _need _these. How can I go out with my friends tomorrow if I'm not on top of my game? I'll make it up to you!"

None of them looked convinced.

"We came downtown to hang out, sis. Not to wait in line with you."

"Yang!" tried the fashion-inclined brunette. "You need a new transmission for your bike, don't you?"

The blonde's eyes narrowed. "That's pretty expensive."

"So are the shoes, hun. Trust."

Mocha narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Where are you getting all this money, anyway?"

"I just sold my old stuff. Resale value is a thing, you know."

"On used clothes?" asked Jaune incredulously. No one answered him, however, having been labeled a lost cause from the get-go. No point trying to bring him into the loop now.

"Fine." Yang caved.

"Yang!" Mocha didn't appreciate that Yang caved.

"Ha." Coco didn't give a rat's ass that Mocha didn't appreciate that Yang caved.

"Hm?" Jaune was lost. Were they leaving or not?

XX

Thankfully, they were able to make it to the front of the line before the hour was up. _Unfortunately…_

"Fuck!" Coco kicked the brick wall outside of the boutique. "What kind of dumbass– how did they run out of my size! Too large? Low stock? Bullshit! My feet are _perfect_!"

Despite her rage, Jaune picked up on something else. "Why did you still buy a pair you couldn't wear, then?"

The kicking stopped for a second in order to provide an answer. "Resale. Value. We've been over this."

"So… transmission?"

Yang didn't care as long as she got her loot.

"Fine. A deal is a deal, I guess. Let's go."

And so, to Jaune's infinite surprise, Coco actually followed through with her promise and brought them to a motorcycle shop. A high-end one, at that.

Yang, in her excitement, was the first to get to the door. She pulled–

"Huh?"

She pulled again.

"Why won't the doors open?"

Jaune tapped her on the shoulder, directing her attention to the paper taped to the storefront.

"Closed for the holidays, back next week? _What holidays!? _It's the first week of summer!"

Her eyes flashed red.

"Calm down, hotshot. How about I take you all out for lunch instead?" appeased Coco. "I can do that much, at least."

Yang grumbled, but didn't argue.

Mocha poked her sister. "Are we going to Velvet's, then?"

"You know it."

"Velvet?" asked Jaune, once again out of the loop.

"My friend from school. Her parents own a place a little further down. It's lowkey, but the food's great."

"Let's go, then!"

The four chattered amiably as they made their way through the streets of downtown Vale. Despite the wrench that Coco had originally thrown into their plans, she was easy to talk to– as long as she wasn't being antagonistic.

Something in the window of a nearby electronics store caught Jaune's attention. "Hold on..."

Without notice, he pulled away from the group. He pushed his way past the crowd gathered around the television displays, noting immediately that all of them were playing the same channel. It was some sort of sportscasting station, with a group of analysts talking at a broadcasting table.

_"We've got some interesting updates on the upcoming MRT. Did you know that one of this year's competitors is the youngest to ever be nominated for the event?"_

_"Really?"_

_"Yep. The Nikos girl is only twelve years old."_

Jaune's eyes widened. That name…

_"Seriously? I mean, needless to say, her dad was something else back in the day. Still, even if it runs in the family, the girl's barely in her teens! Seems to me like they're just trying to get clout. The poor girl won't make it past the first round."_

_"I don't know, Jon. Check out some of her tapes."_

The green screen behind them cut to a video of a familiar redhead sparring with men twice her age in some sort of training facility.

_"I get it, she's good for her age, but don't forget that–"_

"Jaune? What's up?"

He turned around, immediately feeling guilty for leaving the three behind.

"Nothing much. It's just that I know the girl they're talking about on TV."

Yang stretched her arms idly. "Who is she? Yer' celebrity crush or something?"

He blushed. "No, no. I mean she's actually someone I _know_."

Mocha took a glance at one of the screens. "Isn't this a Mistralian show, though? That's pretty far from here."

"Well, I… Um…" Jaune's eyes wandered awkwardly. While he was fine discussing how they met, he was less comfortable talking about the circumstances that lead to them meeting in the first place.

"Well? Spit it out." Coco was many things. Patient wasn't one of them.

"Because of certain… things… I was stuck in Mistral for a while. Pyrrha's mom helped me get home."

She was about to question things further, but Coco refrained from doing so when she saw how uncomfortable Jaune was with the conversation. She didn't know why, but it wasn't their place to pry. "Whatevs. Let's just go."

They soon found the place they were looking for. It was a small diner –as was expected– but it still held a certain je-ne-sais-quoi. It had a nice air about it, and the customers out on the patio seemed to enjoy their meals.

They were met at the entrance by a young faunus girl roughly their age. Her large rabbit ears held stout on top of her head.

"Hello, can I– oh! Coco!"

In a strange display of affection, Coco ran up to the girl and nearly squeezed the life out of her. "Bunny! Table for four, please."

"Of course. And you are?" asked the waitress, looking Jaune's way. If he was right, and this was Velvet, then he was likely the only one she didn't recognise.

"I'm Jaune," he smiled with a nod. He held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

She shook it. "The pleasure's mine. I'm Velvet, Coco's friend. This place is my parents', so I hope you enjoy the food!"

Coco scoffed. "The both of you have sticks up your asses or something. Always so damn polite."

"Hey!" the rabbit girl frowned but didn't say anything else on the matter. She led the group to a nice table. It wasn't surrounded by traffic, but it was still close enough to everything else to be part of the atmosphere.

They were barely off their feet before Yang decided she wasn't done with their conversation from earlier. "So you know that Pyrrha girl, right? Is she strong?"

Both Mocha and Coco looked at her pointedly, likely trying to convince her to drop it.

It wasn't an issue for him, however. Despite his unwillingness to share why he was in Mistral, he had no problem talking about Pyrrha or Thetis. "Pretty strong. Even stronger than me, maybe."

"Seriously?" Mocha didn't sound convinced. "You wreck shop in spars, though."

"Mhm. But back then, I couldn't even hit her."

Coco decided to give her two cents. "I don't doubt it if she's been selected to fight in the MRT. She's about your age, too. That means that Vel and I will have to watch out for Mistral's rep school in a few years."

It took Jaune a second to process what she said. "Hold on, you and Velvet are on the Pharos tournament team?"

Uncharacteristically, Coco blushed. "Well, not yet. We'll only be third years, but teach said that we're basically locks for it! We just need to make our weapons first, is all."

Mocha nodded. "Yeah, sis and Velvet are the pride of Vale's primary combat school. All the teachers think they're guaranteed a spot at Beacon when they graduate."

The Arc's eyes widened. He knew they were going to a combat school, but he automatically assumed Coco was like her younger sister and wasn't as focused on being a huntress. Evidently, he was wrong.

Actually, why _did _Mocha go to Signal? It wasn't as if she wanted to go to Beacon or anything.

His scroll rang.

"Sorry," spoke softly as he placed the device to his ear.

"…Oh! That's great. I can be right there, actually. I'm in Vale with my friends… Yeah, love you too, dad."

The others at the table looked at him strangely. Hanging up, he explained quickly, "Sorry about this, but I gotta go. My weapon's ready, so I gotta pick it up from the shop."

"Your _what!?" _all three yelled.

XX

Jaune sat near Muramasa's reception desk a little awkwardly, being sandwiched between Yang and Coco. Both of them had intense looks in their eyes. "You guys didn't have to come all the way here with me, you know."

Yang sneered. "Oh? We didn't have to? Don't worry, I'm more than willing to make the sacrifice if it means we get to see this weapon that you're getting _two years before I can get one_."

Despite his usual lack of awareness, he didn't miss the contempt in her voice.

"Yeah, Jaune. No biggie," added Coco just as spitefully. Though he didn't know her all that well, she wasn't at all shy about her feelings on the matter, either.

Mocha just shook her head, legs crossed comfortably. Unlike the other two, she chose to sit on the next bench over rather than invade the blond boy's personal space.

Soon after, a muscular red-haired man came out from the back room carrying a large package. "Ya here yet, kid?"

The blonde got up right away, eager to be free of the angry women. "I'm here, Mister Muramasa."

"Good." The package was unceremoniously thrown into his arms. "Your dad already came by to pay for the rest once we started detailing, so feel free to scamper off now."

"Should you… show me what it is?" he asked uncertainly.

The whole scenario wasn't as grandiose as he expected it to be.

"It's good, and it's what you asked for. Presentation over. Unless 'yer sayin' that ya don't trust me to do my job?"

Jaune panicked. "No, I, uh…"

The blacksmith laughed. "I'm messing with ya kid. Have fun with the girlies."

He walked right back into his workshop. It wasn't lost on any of them that he still didn't say what it was.

Yang's hand crept towards the wrapped object. "So… are _you_ gonna open it, or am _I _gonna open it?"

The package was pulled away. "I don't think unwrapping a weapon in a store lobby is a good idea, Yang."

Coco crossed her arms, and let out a loud harrumph. "I hate to say it, but he's right. Why don't you all come back to my place and we can take a look at it there."

"Can't I unwrap it at home and show it to you all next time?"

"No," was the immediate shared response.

"How about Yang's house, then?" suggested Mocha. Patch is a bit of a middle ground between Vale and Orleans, and this way Ruby can see it too."

"Oh yeah, your sister is really into weapons, isn't she?" the boy asked his fellow blonde.

She nodded. "Yeah. I was trying to get her to come with us today, but… she'd not really a people-person, I guess."

He tilted his head. "She's like Coco, then?"

"Hey!"

Mocha laughed. "No, less snippy, more awkward."

"I'm not bad with people."

"She's a really nice girl," promised Yang. "I'm sure she'd be super happy if you stopped by with your new weapon– especially if it's as awesome as the blacksmith thinks it is."

Yang's argument became less about seeing the weapon _now_, and more about involving her socially inept little sister in any way she could.

Jaune nodded. "That's fine. I can't stay too long though since it's starting to get pretty late."

Yang smiled.

"I'm telling all of you, people love me."

Coco was ignored for a little while longer.

XX

"I brought friends!" yelled Yang as soon as we walked through the front door. It was the type of thing some of Jaune's sisters would do before getting chastised by their parents.

Taiyang came down the stairs with a short black-haired girl in tow. "Not so loud, Yang."

The girl behind him suddenly ran to hide behind his leg. Ah. So this was Ruby.

The younger Xiao Long pushed Jaune in front of her and patted the bundle in his arms. "Come out, Ruby. I have something cool to show you."

The little girl didn't look like she wanted to.

"We're unwrapping a shiny new weapon."

That did the trick. She ran past her father and stretched her hand out to Jaune with faked confidence. "M-my name is Ruby. Hi."

He smiled. She reminded him of his younger sisters.

"Nice to meet you, Ruby." He put down the package to shake her hand.

Taiyang stared at the package for a moment. "I don't mind you opening that thing out in the back. Just to let you know, though, this doesn't mean you don't have to make your own weapon in the Huntsman Gear Maintenance class. If not a weapon, you're gonna have to make something else."

The boy nodded in acceptance. That sounded fair to him.

Impatiently, Yang dragged him out to the yard, the others in tow. "Let's goooo."

He stumbled awkwardly but regained his footing. It was time, he supposed.

Thanks to Muramasa's convenient wrapping, all he needed to do was tug the cloth once and the weapon unfurled on its own.

It was a work of art.

It was a one-handed sword, but it was undeniably heavy. The most outstanding feature was the blade itself, which wouldn't look out of place at the end of a particularly ornamental spear. The crossguard was admittedly a little odd, seemingly made in parts rather than a single piece. Though he couldn't tell what it was made out of, it was plated a luxurious gold colour.

The handle and pommel were another oddity. The grip material was nothing he had ever seen before, almost resembling an intricately wrapped cloth. In fact, what he thought was a pattern might have been something else entirely.

The end of the cloth was tied down by a wire string that wrapped around the bottom of the sword, attaching to the pommel.

"What's this?" he mumbled to himself.

The way the pommel was connected to the base was unusual. Almost as if he was supposed to twist–

"Ah!"

Everyone jumped from surprise as the handle stretched out another six feet. As if on a swivel, the wire holding the cloth in place whirled around the extended rod and let its charge flow freely in the air. The strange grip was actually a flag that held the Arc family crest.

It was a flag spear.

"Is that a gichang? No… maybe not. Regardless, now I get why you use polearms in my class so often," mused Taiyang.

"That's so _cool_!" screeched Ruby, running over to see the weapon. She ran her hands up and down its length admiringly, though he did his best to keep the bladed end away from her.

"Woah," was all Mocha could say. She didn't know all that much about huntsman weapons –beyond what was taught in class, at least– but could at least appreciate the obvious display of elite craftsmanship.

"Huh."

"It's cool, I guess."

Yang and Coco were jealous.

Probably.

Jaune stepped back and took a few experimental swings– away from everyone, of course.

_Whoosh_

A rush of… _something _coursed through Ruby's body at that moment. As close as she stood to him, every time the blonde moved his new weapon, the purposeful strikes sent funnels of wind blowing past her face, caressing her cheeks.

She was in a trance. She was in awe; in admiration.

Was this strength?

Her dad was probably stronger, she knew, but this felt different. It was powerful in a different way.

If she wasn't sure before, then she definitely knew now.

_I want to be a huntress._

"Well then!" the boy stopped abruptly, holding the weapon out to his side. "Thanks for letting me use your yard, Mr. Tai, but I have to head home before it gets too dark out."

Coco checked her scroll. "Huh. Yeah, us too. Let's go, short-stuff."

Mocha pouted. "Not short."

Ruby panicked. "Wait, no!"

They all looked to her with visible confusion. Her ears reddened at having the attention drawn to herself, but she persevered. Even for another second– an instant… she wanted to see that weapon one more time!

"Jaune can stay with us tonight, right dad?"

None of them missed how she singled out the blonde without any mention of Mocha or Coco.

"Yang blushed furiously. "No! Absolutely not!"

Their father coughed. "Well, I mean, I don't think…"

Jaune smiled. "Sorry Ruby, but I really do have to head on home. I promised my dad I would show him my new weapon the second I got it. I stayed longer than I should have already."

The elder Xiao Long nodded, happy that he didn't have to deny the kid. "Come again at any time. And don't forget to give some thought to what you want to make for your major project in fourth year! It's not any time soon, but you'll need to find a good replacement if you want to get a passing grade."

Jaune bowed. "Thank you for your company. I'll see you all soon."

He left to catch the ferry, The Adel siblings doing the same, though in the opposite direction. Thankfully, it would be running for another few hours.

XX

"Ey yo! That's dope!" exclaimed an ever-expressive Garnet as she stared at the new _Luminosité Éternelle_.

She wasn't the only one admiring it, as his other sisters gathered around the huntsman weapon as well.

Jade, one of his younger sisters, stood nearby with stars in her eyes. She was a little shy, but it was always obvious to him what she had on her mind.

Come to think of it, Ruby was a lot like her, wasn't she?

"Senji did a great job, as always," commented Jacques. "Do you find that it works well?"

Jaune grinned. "Yeah! Actually, would you mind if we sparred for a bit? I want to get used to it."

Jacques returned the smile. "Certainly! Let's–"

Both of them were smacked over the head by an angry Isabelle. "Not now. Have you seen the time? You can 'spar' all you want in the morning. For now, get to bed. _All of you._"

She got a few grumbles and moans from her younger children, though Jaune and his father complied easily with a tilt of the head. She crossed her arms and smirked.

At the very least, Jaune picked up _some _of his father's good habits.

XX

Jaune was the only one up, having gotten out of bed to get himself a glass of water. He opened the fridge, but winced as the light bounced off of an object behind him and shone in his eye.

He turned to look for the offending object, but his mood instantly dropped once he found it. It was an old and burnt headpiece hanging from the wall; the only reason that its deteriorated metal body could shine at all was that his father spent every free hour polishing it.

It was Jeanne's headpiece.

Refrigerator door left open for visibility, he approached the hanging piece. He traced it with his fingers longingly.

Taiyang's words came back to him.

"A replacement project, huh?"


	5. The World Tournament (intro)

(A/N) Alright, so this chapter is roughly half the length of my usual chapters.

So as I pray, unlimited shame works.

Lmao. Joking aside, this is just the intro to what should be the first actual arc of this story, and the only arc planned before canon. By the time this update is published, I'll already be writing the A/N for the actual first chapter of the arc. **The chapter should be up within the hour.**

But don't hold me to that. Haha.

To anyone worrying that this story will become an OC fest: worry not! It is not my intention to make them pivotal characters, nor characters that I'll use more than I have to. They exist only because RWBY's cast isn't expansive enough to be throwing named characters around willy nilly.

On the same train of thought, the purpose of this arc is _not _to throw more convoluted world mechanics for you to try and wrap your heads around. This arc, as well as the last three or so chapters, exists to give some "body" to a series that suffers from an unfortunate lack of depth and character exploration. If I left things as they were, characters that play a bigger role in this story than in the actual Rooster Teeth production would suffer big time.

Now, that's not to say I'm throwing shade at Rooster Teeth. I'm not.

Anyway, as always, thanks for your feedback and readership. Enjoy!

XX

His third time competing in the tournament was bound to be his most successful. Signal was one win away from being Vale's rep school for the first time in... huh. Did Signal ever make it this far before?

"It's coming from the right!"

"Don't let him hit you!"

"What the hell was _that_ move supposed to be?"

Jaune's eyebrow twitched as he just barely managed to duck under his opponent's overhead swing. He really wanted to tell his teammates that their advice was entirely unnecessary, but the moment was inopportune.

In its sword form, _Luminosité Éternelle _slithered its way into the other fighter's guard, forcing him to jump back lest he find it catching him under the chin. The Arc took the temporary respite to gather his bearings.

Jaune grunted. There was no way that this guy was actually his age, right?

Pharos Academy's last fighter was a good head taller than he was, which meant he was a good head taller than someone close to one hundred and ninety centimeters in height. The guy was pretty proud of his physique too, seeing as how he went around with an unprotected chest to show off his ridiculously over-muscled upper body.

Again. Same age? Not a chance.

If nothing else, it made sense that he was the last one up for Pharos.

The order in which team members fought was incredibly important, according to Taiyang. The matches alone were pretty straightforward –one on one, the team with the most wins takes the match– but the planning behind the _matchups _were much more in-depth.

A match consisted of three separate rounds, so a team would logically need three fighters to participate. However, there were actually _five _fighters registered on a team at any given time. The official reason for that was to have substitutes in the case of injury, but in practice it was actually just a convenient way to change who would be competing like pieces on a board, making sure that they fight someone who would be a good match for their strengths and weaknesses. This was completely legal, save for the case of the final round.

Since the whole thing was a best-two-out-of-three format, the third round was effectively a tie-breaker that didn't always take place. To compensate for this, one member of the team was registered and _locked _to that position; could and would fight only if that third match came to be. It was the only position with a name, aptly called _the lock_.

When Taiyang had told him that he'd be competing at that position, he was a little angry. It was only then that the man explained that Signal's team would be exercising a common and expected strategy: to keep their best fighter as the lock so as to have as little of their abilities revealed before the end of the tournament.

It had only stroked his ego a _little _bit to hear that.

To make a long story short, though, this was a fight between locks. It was made evident very quickly that this was Pharos Academy's strongest participant.

The larger man grunted as he propped his greatsword onto his shoulder. "You're a quick one, ain'tcha?"

Jaune heard someone from his end of the arena –probably Yang– yell, "You're just slow, sucker!"

The blonde shook his head with a sigh.

To his opponent's credit, the gibe was taken with a grain of salt. Then again, the poor guy went to the same school Coco used to attend, so insults probably weren't anything new for him.

CLANG

It took less than a second for their weapons to meet once more at the center of the stage. A flurry of blows followed, the speeds of which were not normal considering that neither of them was particularly agile.

Admittedly, it had more to do with their choice of armours than their actual bodies. The fighter from Pharos wore a full steel backplate with accompanying pauldrons, likely unable to stand the weight of it all had he not discarded the chest piece.

Jaune's protection was much more streamlined by comparison, but it was still more than what a huntsman would usually wear. He had long since replaced his old chest piece with a full ensemble that fit closely to his skin. He kept his gorget, though now it was accompanied by a discrete set of shoulder guards and vambraces.

The most significant addition, however, was the ornate but otherwise unassuming headpiece he wore. It was a strange mix of a circlet and the brow of a helmet.

Jaune announced, "I'll be winning this right here!"

_Luminosité Éternelle _switched to its polearm mode, allowing the previously hidden flag to billow in the open wind.

Off to the side, Mocha bit her nail nervously. She asked Yang, who was seated next to her, "Isn't it better to use a sword against a guy like that?"

Taiyang, who overheard them, interjected, "No, he's got the right idea."

His reasoning wasn't explained, however. His nerves were just as bad as theirs.

The makeshift spearhead of Jaune's weapon tested the opponent's guard with a series of thrusts. The Pharos student was quickly realizing that lugging his huge sword to block the jabs was draining his energy at a fast rate. So as not to give too much ground, he hastily went on the offensive.

A gleam caught Jaune's eye, and _Luminosité Éternelle _glowed faintly. He would make use of this opportunity.

The Pharos student's greatsword came down with conviction, knowing that the weight of the blade would be too much for the polearm to bear at its particular angle. He positioned himself to follow through–

The polearm didn't budge an inch.

"Wha–"

Unable to react in time, the taller man caught a push kick right in the chest. He was sent sprawling out of bounds.

A whistle blew, and a referee entered the ring to call the match.

Jaune looked over his back and smiled at the team from Signal Academy. Taiyang was clapping on his feet while his daughter had two unfortunate fourth-years in a headlock, screaming her head off.

The referee double-tapped his earphone, signaling for the event managers to connect him to the speaker system. "The Vale conference goes to Patch's Signal Academy! They will represent our kingdom at the World Tournament!"

Raucous cheers from the large crowd assaulted Jaune's ears, but it didn't lessen the elation he felt.

Standing still, he looked up to where he knew his family was sitting. Surely they were proud of him– no, proud of all five of them.

XX

Taiyang, who coached them up until this point, took the team into the locker room following the win.

"I'm proud of you guys. You gave it your all, and it paid off."

"Damn straight!" shouted Yang, who was still on some sort of high from the victory. "I'm telling ya, Coco and Velvet are the only reason we've never made it past the Vale conference. Now that both of them are at Beacon, the rest of this thing's gonna be bree~zy!"

Mocha scoffed. "You say that like you fought them yourself, to begin with. You and Jaune were reserves until this year."

The blonde girl huffed and crossed her arms. "Yeah, and now that we _aren't _reserves, we're going to internationals! Besides, we all know that the only reason we were on the sidelines was so that the seniors could have a chance to shine."

Playing the devil's advocate, Jaune offered, "They were still pretty strong, though. Give them some credit."

"Uhm…" mumbled a petite girl with short black hair –the team's lone fifth-year– shyly. "I think Yang and Jaune are stronger! If I didn't lose the first round, then surely…"

Jaune patted her back encouragingly. "Don't sweat it, Amethyst. You're a whole year younger than everyone on Pharos' team! Think of how much experience you'll have when you're back here next time."

She nodded with a faint blush.

The poor girl really was too hard on herself. The tournament consisted of mostly sixth-years –such as himself. It was only because of how small Signal was that they needed to get fourth and fifth-years to fight too.

Taiyang frowned. "Hate to break it to you kids, but the hardest part's going to be beating Mistral. Sanctum Academy is pretty much guaranteed to be their rep."

One of the team's two fourth-years, a short boy with hair done in a queue, raised his hand as if he were in a classroom.

Taiyang sighed. "Yes, Zhang?"

"What's so special about Sanctum? I don't think I've heard anything in particular about them. They've never been the Mistral reps before, and Atlas always beats Mistral in the end regardless."

"The difference is a last-minute decision made on their part," answered the older man cryptically.

Noticing the blank stares he was receiving, he used a projector app on his scroll to pin up the current Mistralian tournament bracket onto the wall.

Jaune looked to see if anything was out of order. Most of the teams except for two were eliminated, so that only left the contestants themselves. He took the time to go over Sanctum's roster.

_Sanctum Academy_

_A. Altan _

_S. Ayana_

_S. David_

_P. Nikos (L)_

_N. Shiko_

"Wait, is that–"

"Hold the phone!" Yang exclaimed. "Since when is Pyrrha-freaking-Nikos competing? That _is _Pyrrha Nikos, right? You'd think that would be a headline somewhere."

Taiyang cut the projection. "She technically wasn't an active fighter until just recently. Mistral's media knew this so they didn't make a huge spectacle out of it. Because of the upcoming Mistral Regional Tournament, the intentions of her management crew was that she'd act as a reserve; it would be on her record that she 'participated' in the world's primary school tournament while in reality, she would be getting ready for her next MRT appearance."

"So… what changed? It says here that she's the lock," asked Mocha. Though she was their assistant coach, this was news to her too.

"Can't be sure," answered the man. "She suddenly announced her withdrawal from the MRT and publicly committed to the Primary Combat School World Tournament."

Jaune lost himself to his own thoughts. Pyrrha, the girl he met years ago, had made quite the name for herself as the "Invincible Girl". She'd won three of Mistral's biggest tournaments in a row, and everyone was so sure that she'd win a fourth.

That begged a different question. Why would she withdraw? Sure, the world tourney was a popular event that was broadcasted across all four kingdoms, but the MRT was on a whole different level. It was without exaggeration the most popular sporting event on Remnant.

"Well, let's worry about one thing at a time," suggested their coach. "The last few rounds of the tournament don't start for another month, so your first priority should be getting through your final exams."

All six students groaned.

"Once I hear what the testing schedule will be from the other teachers, we can meet up for practice a couple of times before we have to fly in."

"Eh?"

"Where are we going?"

The two fourth-years –Zhang and Taka– looked at each other in confusion.

"That's right, you two are still new to this," remarked Mocha. "The last rounds of the tournament are held in a different kingdom each year. This time, it just so happens to be in Mistral."

The brunette froze, thought about what she said, then whimpered. "Which means you guys will have to fight the Invincible Girl on her home court. Great."

Jaune laughed. "If nothing else, it's going to be interesting."

Still…

There was a fire in his eyes. He was competing for a _reason_, and he wouldn't lose without putting up a fight.

XX

Elsewhere, a certain girl stared intently at a live tournament bracket on her scroll. The moment the update she was expecting popped onto her screen, she smiled.


	6. Ah! My champion

(A/N) Aaaaaaaaand that's about as much as I'm willing to put into writing fanfiction for the next few days. Uni classes might be a mess right now, but they're not canceled. I should probably do my assignments now.

Ha. Haha.

Feel free to let me know what you think of the direction I'm taking, both with the story and how this particular tournament is organized. If nothing else, I hope the way I introduced it wasn't too convoluted. That would suck.

Aaaanyway. I just lied a little bit ago. The last chapter wasn't a prologue, it was a prologue to the prologue. This is a longer boi, but expect nothing but insufferable character interaction, exposition and world-building.

Joking. I'm just joking. Kinda

I'm absolutely sleep-deprived, so if I forgot to cover anything I apologize. I go slep now.

Please enjoy. My sanity is fueled by the acceptance of others.

Again, joking.

XX

For whatever reason, Jacques had decided to make a family vacation out of the World Tournament, and so the whole family flew out to Mistral two weeks early. The moment all the Arc children finished their exams, they packed their bags and took off. Jaune could only assume that this was supposed to be some sort of celebratory type of thing to congratulate him on making it this far.

"Man," exclaimed Jade, Jaune's younger sister, as she looked outside the hotel window in awe. "It's supposed to be around the same size as Vale city, but this place looks _a lot _different."

Jaune shot her a small smile and ruffled her hair. "Of course, Mistral's culture is far removed from ours. Especially here in the capital, you're gonna see a big difference in styles of living."

Jade knocked the hand away and frantically tried to fix her hair. "Jaune! Aw… I'm gonna have to redo my braid…"

"Hey, dad!" From across the three-room suite, Saphron called out to their father. Hers and her mother's faces were planted in a brochure titled _Best Spas in Mistral_. "We're gonna go get a massage at this one place, wanna come?"

Jacques laughed weakly. "No, dear, I'm spent for today. Why don't you all go on without me?"

"Hey! I don't want to go either, you know," Jade chipped in her two cents. "I want to go see that building over there!" She pointed at a temple that was visible through the window.

For a twelve-year-old girl, she was certainly a handful. Jade was particularly hard-headed and perseverant in a way that not many others her age were. As shown by the current instance, if she wanted to do something, she'd find a way to do it.

Jacques didn't waste a second. After years of dealing with (way too many) pouting children, he had developed a repertoire of go-to techniques that allowed him to delegate responsibility. One such technique was…

"Jaune, go take Jade to see the temple."

Jaune didn't even bother arguing. He was expecting this. "Sure, dad."

Jade jumped up and down in excitement, quite pleased that she got things to go her way. "Great! I'll go get changed."

Jaune's five other sisters plus their mother made their way out the door, as his father waved goodbye from the comfort of the couch in the shared living space. Meanwhile, the only son waited patiently for his younger sibling to finish getting dressed.

It didn't take her much longer to come out of the bedroom. She wore some sort of frilly skirt paired with a light beige sweater. Her blonde hair was restyled into her preferred side strand braid, and her green eyes shone with barely restrained anticipation. "C'mon, Jaune! Let's go, let's go!"

Choosing comfort over style, Jaune stuck with what he wore on the flight over; that being a plain red hoodie, grey sweats, and white trainers.

He sighed. "After you, then." He opened the door and gestured for his little sister to go first. With a wave to their dad, they too were off.

XX

Jaune had to admit, the temple was much more impressive now that they were up close. Statues, jewels, and white marble pillars surrounded the lot which must have been at least a couple thousand square meters. Bustling tourists as well as locals streamed in, out and around the structure in waves

"There's… Lot's of people, huh?" noted Jade simply.

Her brother nodded. "Must be a popular attraction. Or… something."

They noticed a crowd forming at what seemed to be an entrance. Security guards were holding them all at bay.

"Look, it's really her!"

"She's gorgeous in real life too, huh?"

"She would have totally won again this year dude. Definitely."

The younger blonde's interest had been piqued. She ran off ahead to go see what the commotion was all about. Using her small frame to her advantage, she easily snaked her way to the front of the group.

It took her brother (who was supposed to be looking after her) a little longer than a moment to realize that she'd already ran ahead. "Quite the commotion, I wonder what it's all about. What do you say we go check it out, Jade? …Jade? JADE!"

He spotted her just before she disappeared behind two people twice her size. He ran after her and –maybe a little too roughly– pushed his way forward to try and find her.

He found her once he reached the front. She was leaning against a rope barrier along with many others, an awed expression on her face. Everyone was trying to sneak a peek past the men in black suits who were making sure no one crossed the barrier.

From what he could see on the other side, the interior of the temple was completely void of tourists, truly accentuating its gargantuan size. Centered and to the back, a set of stairs led up to an altar, on which was placed an equally proportioned marble statue of a lady in a toga, presumably some sort of goddess.

…His earlier analysis wasn't completely correct. There was _one _person inside, kneeling at the base of the stairs. It was a pretty girl with long, wavy red hair. She was dressed like a warrior, clad in intricate bronze armor.

She suddenly got up to leave. Security officers reacted by flanking her and sending orders through some kind of radio on their ears.

"Who… is she?"

He didn't even realize that he'd asked the question until his sister answered, "Seriously? Jeez, I know you don't get out much, but I can't believe my own brother doesn't recognize– "

"Jaune?"

Everything was silent. The crowd stopped talking to themselves, the security team stopped giving orders, and Jaune could've sworn that even the wind blowing through the open-air structure was tamed.

"It's you, isn't it? You're… Jaune Arc."

The redhead didn't get up to leave like he thought. Instead, she was standing a couple of feet in front of him. She looked hesitant to ask her question, hoping that she wasn't wrong.

The people around him were giving him shocked looks, not believing that a celebrity called out to some no-name amongst them. Though he was honestly in the same boat! He didn't even know who she –

"…" He got a better look at her now that she was closer. The familiar red hair, the green eyes…

"You are… Pyrrha, Thetis' daughter, aren't you?"

The uncertainty visible on her face was quickly replaced by a friendly smile. "Ah, it is you. I'm glad. Have you been well?"

"Ahem…" One of her guards tried to discretely alert her that such a public place wasn't ideal to be catching up with someone.

"Oh, yes, I'm terribly sorry!" She turned her attention back to Jaune. "It's been quite a long time Jaune. Would you like to meet me for lunch today, then?" She thought about what she just said, and became a little self-conscious. "Erm, that is, if you don't already have other plans."

Jaune could hear the murmurs within the crowd. His own sister was staring at him in disbelief.

The blond boy smiled kindly at the redhead. "I would love to. Do you mind if my sister joins us?

Jade let out a small "Eep!" as Jaune pulled her closer to him.

Pyrrha laughed. "I don't mind at all."

XX

_What the hell is going on!?_

Externally, Jade was unresponsive as she tried to figure out just how it was that her older brother was so chummy with one of her idols. She could only answer with a pathetic nod whenever the red-haired woman would ask her a question on their way to the eating establishment that was _completely empty_ in anticipation of their arrival.

"So Jaune, tell me." Pyrrha Nikos spoke first once they were all seated at a round booth at the back of the restaurant. A waitress brought them menus. "What brings you to Mistral? The last we spoke, you told me your plan was to be a huntsman in Vale."

"Yeah, that's still the plan." Jaune laughed. "Actually, the reason we're here is because of you."

"Hm?" Pyrrha was caught off guard.

Seeing that her brother's conversational skills were as terrible as always, Jade interjected before her idol could get _too _creeped out. "What my brother means to say is that he's here to compete in the World Tournament; his primary huntsman school is representing Vale this year. Not only that, but he's the third round lock, which means he'll be fighting you personally. You're pretty much the strongest there is, so you're the one to beat."

Pyrrha's cheeks glowed with a healthy blush. "My… That's certainly flattering. I hope that our match will be a good one, Jaune."

She didn't seem too phased by the revealing of his position.

"Even back then, you were an incredible fighter," Jaune chimed in. "On another note, why were you at the temple anyway? It seems like you went through an awful lot of trouble to be there despite all the attention you were attracting."

"You mean you don't know?" Jade gave her elder sibling a flat look. "What am I saying… of course you don't. Miss Nikos' family has been said to be under the divine protection of Mistralian deities for hundreds of years. She goes to the temple to pray to the Goddess of Victory every day when she's here for the MRT."

"Huh. I didn't know that." Jaune didn't have the decency to look sorry.

"No, that's quite alright." Pyrrha didn't seem to mind much herself, even though they _acted _like they knew each other.

That's it. Jade had enough of being out of the loop. "Uhm, sorry, but… Miss Nikos, how do you know my brother exactly?"

The redhead's face contorted to form a complicated expression. Her gaze found Jaune's, not knowing how touchy a subject it was for the boy.

Jaune caught on to what she was trying to convey and explained to his sister, "You were pretty young, so I don't know how well you remember… A few years back, when I got lost in Mistral, it was Pyrrha and her mother who helped me get home safe."

Ah. That explained it then.

Jade bowed awkwardly from where she was seated at the booth. It looked more like a shrug. "Thank you for helping my brother."

The pro fighter smiled kindly and waved her off. "Think nothing of it, Jade. I didn't do much, really."

"No, it was more than you could possibly imagine."

Pyrrha was a little startled by Jaune's seriousness in his interjection. He continued, "My mind was in a dangerous place at the time; I had just lost the person I looked up to the most in life. I was full of hatred, self-loathing… If it weren't for you and Miss Thetis, I haven't a clue what would've happened to me."

Jade saw her brother in a new light. She had never known how much big sis Jeanne's death had affected him. What would happen if _she'd_ lost _him_? Jaune was _her _role model. She tried so much to be like him; to put her whole heart into everything she does and never give up until she gets what she wants.

Not that she'd ever actually tell him that.

Jaune wasn't done. "I owe you both my _life_, Pyrrha. Maybe to you, it was just being kind, but to me it was… it was _everything_."

As a celebrity, Pyrrha had grown a knack for always knowing the best thing to say. After all, the camera was always watching and the people were always listening.

The only problem was right now, they weren't on camera and no one else was listening. What could she say to _that_? She didn't have much experience speaking as herself as opposed to a public figure. "I, uh…"

Jaune realized that he may have made her feel uncomfortable. "Sorry, I didn't mean to– "

"I'm training at eight-thirty tomorrow. Would you… maybe… like to join me? We're opponents, of course, but we should be able to have a workout without divulging any of our plans for the fight."

She didn't know what she was doing anymore. What she _did _know is that she couldn't leave him hanging. Not after what he just told her. Somehow, it made her feel, for once in her life, like she was able to be something more than an entertainer for the people.

A pregnant silence formed between the three. Jaune blinked and smiled. "I'd like that."

Pyrrha clasped her hands, delighted. "Oh, how grand!" She took out her scroll and held it in front of her suggestively. "Here. Add me to your contacts so I'll be able to– oh?"

Her scroll rang. "Sorry, just one moment. It's my mother," she apologized as she brought the device up to her ear.

"Hello, mom… Yes, I'll meet with you soon. I finished a little while ago, and now I'm breaking for lunch… I'm with Jaune Arc, actually. He and his sister… Yes, that Jaune… Oh, of course. One moment."

She brought the scroll down to her lap. "My mom said she'd love to speak with you, Jaune. You wouldn't mind terribly, would you?"

"Ah, not at all." Jaune was caught off guard by the question, but he surely wouldn't mind hearing from the woman again.

Pyrrha put the scroll on the speaker function and placed it in between the three of them.

"You're on speaker, mom."

_"Jaune! Are you there? How have you been?"_

The boy's eyes brightened. "Miss Thetis! I wish I could greet you in person, but it's great to hear your voice regardless!"

_"That's why I wanted to talk to you, actually. Why don't you bring your family to meet up with Pyrrha and I after she's finished training tomorrow."_

"Well, mom," chipped in her daughter, "Jaune will be joining me, actually."

_"Oh? I see, I see! In which case, I'll go bring your family over, then you and Pyrrha can come to us once you've finished."_

Jaune grinned at Pyrrha. "Sounds good to me."

_"Excellent! See you tomorrow– oh, you said your sister's with you, right?"_

"Uhm… Hello," Muttered Jade shyly.

_"Hello, dear. I look forward to meeting you. Now Jaune, make sure to let your family in on the plan! Oh, and Pyrrha, we can meet up later. For now, show your friends around the city."_

"Oh? Uh... yes, mom." Pyrrha agreed, caught off guard by the suddenness on the demand.

Click. Thetis hung up.

"So… After we eat, would you two like to see some… interesting places?" She would ignore the fact that she hadn't been able to explore much of the city herself. She could wing it.

Jade answered for the both of them. "Of course! We'd love to!"

Her older brother scratched the back of his head. "Let me just call dad and let him know what we're up to. No need to have him worry."

XX

"And this is the Keii Colosseum. The Mistral Regional Tournament, or MRT for short, has been hosted here for decades ever since its relocation from Haven Academy campus. _Every _member of the Nikos family has fought here at least once over the course of their lives; it's in our blood!" Pyrrha finished off with a proud exclamation. After many grueling hours of showing the siblings popular sites –all while not having a single clue what she was talking about– she was in her comfort zone again.

"I thought the temple was big, but this is a whole other level of huge," mused Jaune. "Don't you feel uneasy performing in front of all these people?"

"I'll admit, my first year I was a wreck. My trainer, my manager, _and_ my mom spent the better part of an hour trying to calm me down before each match," reminisced the champion. "Honestly, I think it only got _worse _the further along I made it."

"Wait, really?" Jade couldn't imagine the _Invincible Girl_ being anything other than cool as a cucumber.

"Yeah, really! I grew out of it eventually, though. While it _is _true that I have fans that counted on me to win, this tournament is pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things."

"Insignificant?" Jaune never thought that's what a three-time champion's mindset would be like.

"Mhm. If I won, then I won; if I lost, then all that really happens is that I lost. People will be mad, disappointed, all of that… but no matter the outcome, this is just entertainment. Nothing more."

"That's…" Jaune was thrown for a loop. He shouldn't be one to talk, but that just sounded…

"Unbecoming? A little too blasé, maybe? I suppose it is." Pyrrha laughed to herself, taking it all with a grain of salt. "Now all of that being said, I do have responsibilities as a public figure. Children look up to me –idolize me, even– and my actions _have had_ political consequences. My opinion is held to a high enough regard that it can sway the _public's _opinion. I can't say I've gotten over that part yet."

"Sounds like a pain, to be honest." Jaune thought it, Jade said it.

Pyrrha smiled at the younger girl. "It can be. However, it's what makes all of this worth it for me: to be able to make a _real _difference."

Jaune couldn't help but feel that she seemed a little sad.

RING, RING

"Yeah, dad?" Jaune answered his scroll, seeing that his father was calling him. "…Yeah, we can be home in a bit. See ya."

Jade peered over his shoulder. "Was that…?"

"Yeah, dad says it's getting late." Jaune placed his hand on Pyrrha's shoulder. She started at the unexpected contact. "We had fun today, but our dad wants us home before it gets too late. See you tomorrow?"

The older girl flushed away her embarrassment from being caught off guard and returned the gesture. "Certainly! Here's my number, by the way." She tapped her scroll against his. A beep indicated the data transfer was complete.

She noticed Jaune's little sister fidgeting, trying not to make eye contact. "I'd love to trade numbers with you too Jade… That is, if you want?"

The younger girl lit up like a lamp. "Yeah!"

Without wasting a single instant, Jade whipped out her own scroll and eagerly tapped it against her idol's.

"I'll send you a message with the time and place later after I speak with my trainer. That okay?"

He gave her a thumbs up. "Sure. Want us to walk you home or something?"

The redhead giggled and pointed to one of the many security guards following them from a distance. "I think I'll be fine. See you tomorrow."

Jaune stopped. "Oh, one last thing."

The redhead gestured for him to speak his mind. "Hm?"

"I was wondering… Why did you withdraw from the MRT?"

She smiled. "That's a secret."

XX

A bleary-eyed Jaune woke up to the sound of his scroll pinging. As he reached for it, he saw that the displayed time was five-thirty.

_Hey, Jaune. Meet up at 8? (Location attached)_

Man, and he thought _he _was an early riser.

Deciding he may as well get up, he quietly made his way to the door as to not wake up the two sisters he bunked with. In the queen-size bed next to his, Jade was snoozing away next to Garnet.

Entering the shared living space, he turned on the complementary pod coffee maker. Thankfully, the hotel provided tea pods as well.

His scroll went off with another notification just as he sat down with his mug.

"News update?"

Having nothing better to do, he opened the newly published article.

"PFFFFFT!"

He spat out his tea in surprise the moment it touched his lips.

_Pyrrha Nikos Talks 'Career Paths' With Vale-Affiliated Parties._

What was all this about?

He put down his mug, more concerned with figuring out what the hell he was reading.

"Sources have leaked that Jaune Arc, third round lock of Vale's representative World Tournament team, was spotted in Mistral with three-time champion Pyrrha Nikos… Huh? Analysts speculate that the meeting was an attempt by Vale's Beacon Academy to recruit the region's top prospect following her graduation from Sanctum?"

"So you're up, Jaune?" His father yawned as he joined him in the living space. It wasn't often that Jaune was up before the man, seeing as Jacques _liked_ to wake up at ungodly hours of the morning. "How was your day with Pyrrha? It's nice to see you talking with people your own age other than Yang and Mocha."

His son didn't answer him. Wordlessly, Jaune slid the scroll across the table to his father with the article open.

"Hm?" The head of the Arc family swiped through the news page. "Oh, this is– ha. Hahaha!"

Jaune frowned. "Why are you laughing? Who knows what kind of drama this will cause for Pyrrha?"

Jacques gave his son a strong pat on the back. "Don't stress about this too much. When you're as big of a deal as your friend here, tabloids and reporters will do _anything _they can to scrounge a story. Nikos is probably taking this all with a grain of salt, and so should you."

"I… guess…"

XX

A few minutes before eight, Jaune found himself standing in front of a tall white building. Its exterior design was pretty simple and boxy, so it looked a little out of place amongst all the historical monuments that filled this particular neighborhood.

As he got closer, the glass panel doors opened on their own, and a "ping" sound reverberated somewhere inside. While he had never actually been to Atlas, the place still gave him "Atlas-y" vibes.

Once he entered, he b-lined to the desk in the middle of the reception hall.

"How can I help you?" asked the receptionist in a tired voice. The poor guy looked like he must've gotten here pretty early.

"I'm here to meet up with a friend, actually. She gave me this address?" Jaune started to sound a little unsure of himself. Was this the right place? It didn't really seem like a gym at first glance.

The receptionist gave him a dead stare for a moment. "Yeah, sorry. The gym doesn't open until this afternoon; tournament, and all that. The staff is busy keeping training facilities operating on extended hours for Mistral's competitors. Come back later, please."

Well, at least it was the right place. "I'm here to see a competitor, actually. Pyrrha Nikos?"

"Oh, I see."

Jaune gave the man a bright smile. "Great! Could you point me in the right direction? I've never been here before."

"That's… gonna have to be a no, buddy. Sorry."

"Eh?"

The receptionist's tired scowl scrunched up even further. "Look, kid. You're the third person to come in this morning that tried to tell me that they're 'in' with Nikos. The _third_. Have you seen the time? You're gonna have to be a little more creative if you think that–"

"Jaune, you're here! Sorry, I took a little longer than I thought to get ready." Coming out from the door behind the receptionist's desk wearing compression pants and a sleeveless top, Pyrrha gave the blonde a dazzling smile. "You brought workout gear, right? I'll show you to the dressing rooms."

The poor receptionist didn't know how to respond. He knew what to do if someone _pretended _to know Pyrrha Nikos, but he had no clue what to do if someone _actually _knew her. "Uh…"

Jaune gave the man a big smile. "Never mind, there she is. Thanks anyway!"

"…Yeah…"

XX

"Hng!?"

"Harder, Jaune! Push harder!"

"Hng!"

"Excellent, just like that!... Steady, now. Don't throw your back out."

The reigning champ was teaching her blond friend how to do a proper bench press. Considering his formidable physique, one wouldn't think that he'd never touched regular workout equipment in his life. When asked, he stated simply that his dad had a more "hands-on" approach to physical conditioning.

He tried to talk while keeping his breath steady. "Do you really think–"

"Don't speak during the rep."

He finished the extension and –with the help of his red-haired spotter– gently placed the barbell on the rack. "Sorry. Do you really think you have the time to be doing this? I mean, shouldn't you be focused on training too?"

Pyrrha waved him off. "Don't worry about it. You can do me next."

He frowned, but conceded. He chose to ignore the awkward phrasing. "If you say so."

The huntsman-to-be reached for the bar again, but paused when his companion asked, "Say… have you competed in the world finals before, or is this your first time?"

"First time," he admitted.

"I… see. Me too, but I doubt it's too different from a regular competition." She nodded to herself. Let it be known that Pyrrha Nikos had never been accused of dragging out a conversation.

But what _did _she want from said conversation? What compelled her to ask him to come train with her this morning? Sympathy? Pity?

"So, is this how all the competitors from Mistral prepare for the tournament, or just you?" As Jaune looked around, he couldn't help but notice that they were the only two in the weight room, despite it being reserved for all five participants.

"Hmm…" Pyrrha took a glance at the digital clock display on the wall closest to them. They may as well get started sooner rather than later, she supposed. "I'd say that everyone does their own thing, more or less, but if you're wondering why there's nobody here, it would be because most of them don't start training this early."

"I guess that makes sense."

XX

They spent the rest of their time at the gym trying to make small-talk. As they moved from machine to machine, they fell into a rhythm of sorts.

"One. Two. Three. Four… Five!" Jaune counted for his 'gym buddy'. He made sure to keep barbell steady as it came down from her last squat.

She got to her feet at a steady pace. The redhead flashed him a smile as she wiped the sheen of sweat from her forehead with a towel. "Thank you, Jaune. This has been quite the productive morning, don't you think?"

The blonde nodded as he did his best to stretch his hamstrings "Yeah. It was fun actually. I'm happy you invited me."

Nothing else was said. The two found that they appreciated each other's company through the last few hours.

At a certain point, Pyrrha let her eyes trail on the clock. Eleven already? "Let's call it a day, shall we?"

"Sure."

She passed him a bottle of water from her bag. "I'll meet you in the lobby after I take a shower."

With a wave, she left him alone in the arena.

Taking a seat on a rolled-up yoga mat with his legs sprawled out in front of him, Jaune took the time to soak in his surroundings. Somewhere along the line, other fighters had trailed in. Some stared at him, but they probably assumed he was hired as Pyrrha's training assistant. Eventually, though, they forgot about him in favour of doing what they originally came to do.

With a "Hup!", the blonde put himself on two feet. He placed everything back in order the best he could, then left gather his things from the locker he rented.

…Where were the showers again?

XX

It was fifteen minutes later that Jaune found himself in the lobby, now dressed in a clean pair of sneakers, sweats and a plain black t-shirt.

He was nearly blinded by the flashing lights that shone through the front windows. Squinting, he could make out a wave of journalists carrying huge cameras.

"Jaune," waved Pyrrha. "Over here!"

At first, he wondered why she stood so far away. It took him little more than a few seconds to realize that she was purposely keeping away from the windows.

The blonde approached her, curious about the commotion outside. "Hey, do you know what's up with…"

He trailed off. Noticing how she was dressed, his question became, "what's with the outfit?"

Pyrrha was dressed head to toe in what could only be described by him as 'expensive stuff'. In place of the bronze body armor he remembered from the other day, she wore a gold-colored silk blouse paired with mustard corduroy pants. Her wrists, ears and neck were _lathered _in jewels, and her feet were slipped into a pair of red-bottomed high-heels that he could vaguely remember his sisters ogling in a magazine.

The only familiar thing was her circlet, though it was paired with a matching bun cover that held the length of her hair.

Jaune felt grossly underdressed, all of a sudden. Because of his lifestyle, most of what he owned was either activewear, or activewear repurposed as loungewear. At least he had a uniform back at school… but now?

Pyrrha blushed. "Please, don't mind me. My sponsors pay my management team _a lot _of money, so this is all I can wear outside of my combat gear."

"I mean… it looks… nice?" he tried.

Though the redhead appreciated the gesture, she groaned. "There are plenty of women who'd love to wear my clothes –that's the point, I suppose– but it's just so restrictive. It's not… me."

He felt for her. He really did.

"Miss Nikos," the receptionist –a different one from earlier– whispered to them from where she sat at her desk. "We'll be opening to the public shortly."

Jaune glared at the entrance with trepidation. "How do you plan on dealing with them?"

The Mistralian idol glimmered. "I'm not."

"Eh?"

She motioned for him to follow her to the emergency exit. "We have a car waiting for us out here. This side of the building isn't accessible from the main roads, so we should be fine."

True to her words, a black limousine was parked in the deserted alleyway behind the gym. A plain-looking man in a black suit got out of the driver's seat and opened the back door for them."

"After you, sir," joked the over-dressed girl with a wide smile. After training with him for a few hours, she found him easier to talk to.

He smirked and shook his head, but heeded her command nonetheless.

As they took off, Jaune took it upon himself to start small talk. "So where are we meeting Thetis, exactly? I remember my sister saying that you only come to the capital whenever there's a tournament, so that means you don't actually live here, right?"

"That's right." Pyrrha scratched her cheek, feeling a little self-conscious. "Though since we come here a lot, my dad thought it would be a good idea to purchase a second property close to the colosseum. My family's actually from a town called Phthia; I'd say it's one of the western-most places in Mistral."

"I've never met your dad. Is he here too?"

She shook her head. "No, he hasn't come to one of my tournaments since my first."

"Wha– really?" Jaune spoke a little louder than he would've liked. "That really sucks! Since Thetis came all the way here, I figured he'd at least–"

He stopped himself when he noticed the plastic smile on her face.

"Sorry… I don't know your situation. That was rude of me."

"No, no, I get what you mean." she waved it off. "But that's just how it is in my family. My dad _expects _me to win. He's really busy most of the time, so why commute for what he sees as a forgone conclusion? In a way, it's because he believes in me that he's not here."

There was so much that the young Arc wanted to say to that. _He should be here to support you. He should be here because that's what family does._ But in the end, he kept his mouth shut. Like she said, that's 'just how it is in her family'.

They didn't exchange any more words for the rest of the commute. It wasn't an awkward silence, but it wasn't exactly a comfortable one either.

The closer they got to the heart of town, the more closely packed everything was. Traditional Mistralian buildings became high-rises and mom-and-pop stores became corporation head offices.

The limousine stopped in front one of the many apartment complexes in the area. There was nothing distinguishing about it save for the marble pillars sandwiching the main door.

"We've arrived ma'am," announced the driver.

Pyrrha smiled. "Thank–"

Both Pyrrha and the driver paused and stared at Jaune, who had already opened the door. He blushed.

Did he do something wrong?

The driver –who was prepared to get out of his seat– put his hands back on the wheel.

"It's fine, we got it," amended the redhead.

The pair entered the building as the car pulled away.

Now that they were alone, Jaune felt compelled to ask, "Should I have not opened the door myself?"

"It's a cultural thing, Jaune," she explained to him. "Mistralian people take it as an insult if you try to take their job from them. Opening the door for his client is part of that driver's duty."

Jaune never thought of it that way. In vale, most would be _happy _if you made their job easier for them. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

"Think nothing of it." Her bracelets jingled as she waved it off. She blushed and lowered her arm once she noticed how _obvious_ her jewelry was. "He knew you weren't from Mistral, so I can guarantee he didn't take it personally.

The Arc nodded. It was situations like these that reminded him that the world was a big place, and that it didn't revolve around him.

Once they entered, Jaune was surprised to see a small, closed-off space rather than a lobby. "The front door leads straight into the elevator?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes. This building is for residents only; the business end of things is managed next door." The redhead placed her hand on a translucent black square. After hearing a beep, she pressed the button that would take them up to the top floor.

"…Was that a–"

"Yes, that was a hand scanner." Her cheeks were tinted a pink hue.

"Wow… okay."

She didn't quite pout, but her lower lip did _something_. The whole security system was admittedly a little… much. She couldn't complain, though, as she wouldn't put it past some over-zealous fan to try breaking into her place.

The ground underneath them steadied and a bell chimed. The doors of the elevator opened to face a sizeable foyer that Jaune wasn't quick to believe could actually fit inside of a building.

"Oh… that must be them," spoke a woman's voice from another room. While muffled by the walls, it wasn't hard to hear. "Pyrrha, honey, we're in the living room!"

"We'll be right there, mom."

'Mom'? So that was…

He followed the redhead into the next room over.

The living space was immaculate. The furnishings were top class, and decorations were placed tastefully. It must have been the work of an interior designer of some kind, though, since Jaune couldn't help but feel that that there was no 'personal touch' to it. It was doubtful that either Nikos spent much time here.

"Jaune, is that really you? You've grown so much!" exclaimed a red-haired woman from her seat on a love chair. There were three sofas facing it, all of which were occupied by the entire Arc family.

As he thought, it really was Thetis. She hadn't changed a bit; not even a wrinkle was out of place.

He offered a kind smile and a wave. He addressed his father first, however. "When did you all get here?"

"A little less than an hour ago. She came to pick us up herself, and has been very hospitable." –he lifted the mug he was holding– "She makes great tea, by the way. You'll love it."

The woman in question scoffed. "Hospitable? Hardly. You wouldn't stop thanking me, so I gave you a beverage to keep your mouth busy."

Despite her harsh words, she laughed airily. It was obvious that she was just joking.

Jacques scratched the back of his head; a habit shared between both men of the Arc family. "Well, of course I'd thank the one who looked after my son. This is the first time I've been able to meet you in person after all."

All the while, his sisters were whispering amongst themselves. They took quick glances at Pyrrha when they thought she wasn't looking.

"Wow… she's taller than I thought she'd be."

"I figured it was the camera lighting, but she's pretty no matter what, huh?"

"What _I _want to know is how our muscle-brained brother was able to hold a conversation with someone like her long enough to be invited to her house."

Jaune's eyebrow twitched. They knew that they weren't being that quiet, right? They knew that he could hear them, _right?_

"Pyrrha, introduce yourself properly, won't you?" Noticing the murmurs herself, Thetis spoke to her daughter in a judging tone that only a mother could muster.

"Um, yes! Sorry! My name is Pyrrha Nikos. It's a pleasure to meet all of you."

The girls continued to talk amongst themselves.

"She's really down-to-earth, too!"

"I was expecting her to be a little more snobbish."

"Like you?"

"Hey!"

"Ahem." Isabelle disrupted her children's banter. They shut up instantly.

"Why are you still standing! Take a seat, both of you." Thetis pointed at the open space on the adjacent couch. "Would either of you like something to drink? I'm certain that there's more than enough tea to go around."

She wasn't actually looking for an answer, apparently. She had already poured them both a cup. Jaune nodded appreciatively.

Jaune took a sip. It _was _quite good.

"So. How goes convincing my daughter to abandon her country for Vale?"

He spat the tea back into his cup in shock.

"Mom!" admonished Pyrrha.

"Hahaha!" chuckled Thetis as she leaned further into the love seat, "Joking! I'm just joking."

The blonde boy sighed. "I'm sorry if I've caused any misunderstandings over that."

"Don't be." Thetis stopped laughing and adopted a relatively serious tone. "Tabloids come out with stuff like this daily. It's not the worst thing that's been said about my daughter by far."

Though she tried to keep the mood light, no one could mistake the annoyance in her voice.

Jaune closed his eyes and took another sip of his drink. "I'm sorry."

The younger redhead patted his shoulder "No, really. Mom is right. You don't–"

"No, I mean I'm sorry you have to put up with stuff like that."

She stared at him dumbly for a second, though her trademark smile came up in an instant.

"Thank you."

He couldn't help but feel that her smile was a little more genuine. She might have been thanking him for something else entirely.


	7. Crush me

(A/N) *Checks date* Oopsie woopsie. I made a fucky wucky UwU.

Lol seriously tho, I blame exams. On the bright side, no more exams.

It was brought to my attention that the upload before last might have gone unseen by some because I uploaded the _next _chapter just a little while later. If you're unaware of the "interlude" chapter, it's there. Seriously, I called it an interlude but it's the lead-in for the first arc of the story. I don't know how legible the stuff after it is if you haven't read it, but I can't imagine the answer is "very".

Again, sorry for taking over a month to update.

Anyway, here we are. The competitors gather themselves, and the tournament of power is almost underway! Can Jaune or Pyrrha beat Jiren?

Find out next time, on...

Nevermind.

XX

The two program anchors –a man and a woman– sat across from each other at a sleek, circular table. A large screen behind them displayed the stylized channel name, _Mistral Live, with Dorothy and Morado._

The man, referencing a printed sheet in front of him on the table, spoke, "Event insider Andrew Wojnarov posted the final bracket just _minutes _after the slightly-behind Vacuo conference was decided. What's your takeaway, Dory?"

The digital _Mistral Live _lettering disappeared with a quick transition. A simple two-round bracket took its place on the digital display.

_First Round_

_Vale vs Mistral_

_Vacuo vs Atlas_

The woman got up from her seat and slapped the electronic board theatrically. "There's nothing to say, Mory. This name right here changes everything. It means there won't be much of a competition either way."

The man sighed. "Yes, Pyrrha Nikos is a very good–"

_"Very good?" _she repeated incredulously, as if she were in_ awe _of the magnitude of the understatement. "Nebula Violette is _very good_. Ciel Soleil is _very good. Arslan Altan, _who's also on the Mistral team, is _very good. _Pyrrha Nikos, on the other hand, is head and shoulders above everyone in this competition. She's _one of the best _professional fighters in the _world. _You're asking a bunch of school kids –huntsmen in training as they may be– to go up against the girl who _threepeated _at the MRT. That's rough."

Mory looked at his co-host amusedly. "I guess I don't have to ask who you favour in the first round, then."

Dory scoffed. "The only remaining question is whether it'll be a clean sweep or not. Vacuo can't beat Atlas–"

"Agreed. Nebula Violette has a pretty solid record with a _plus-eight hundred _winning percentage over three years. Unfortunately, she doesn't have much help on her end. Up against _another _great Atlas team, with Flynt Coal, Cobalt Blue, _and _Ciel Soleil as their lock? Not a chance."

"–and frankly, I feel _bad _for Vale," she finished, content to let the man fill in the blanks.

He didn't want to take her words at face value alone, though. "Why is that? We haven't seen much of them until this year, but Yang Xiao Long and Jaune Arc have been nothing short of fantastic in their conference. They have yet to lose a match, actually." He had to double-check his notes to make sure that was right.

Dory shook her head. "I don't deny that, but the two of them won't come away with two wins. They're the _only _sixth-years on the team. The others simply can't keep up. Altan and Ayana –who I'll bet will be playing that match for Mistral– are top-of-the-line competitors. If Vale isn't careful, they won't even get a lock match out of the whole thing."

"Let's say they do. What then?"

The woman crossed her arms, finally choosing to sit back down. "Nothing. Jaune Arc is not beating Pyrrha Nikos. End of story. It's not even _remotely _possible."

XX

Jaune frowned at the livestream on his scroll before deciding it would do nothing more than psych him out. He put it away and chose to wait for the rest of his team in silence.

Everyone from Vale was already here, so Taiyang had scheduled practice days for them. They were able to rent out Keii Colosseum for that purpose– a right shared with the other two visiting teams.

He was the first to arrive, and the only one so far. Not to say that they were late– he was just early.

About thirty minutes early.

Was he nervous about the match? Maybe a little. There was a lot of pressure on him to win.

Not from the general public, though. In fact, they expected him to _lose_. Pyrrha had it much worse than him in that regard. Even his own team wouldn't mind terribly if he lost, since they weren't all that competitive, to begin with.

Yang excluded, of course.

No, the pressure was entirely self-imposed. He could still remember the day he told his father that he'd be the best. Would the man be angry if he didn't reach that goal? Honestly? Probably not. He wanted his son to be the strongest he could be, not win some televised event.

Still, that didn't matter. If he lost, then it would mean his resolve was only good enough to make it to a first-round exit. It would mean that his promises to his late sister were nothing more than empty boasts.

He couldn't have that.

A hand slapped him on the back, startling him. "Hey."

"Wha– oh. Hey, Yang."

The girl propped her hands on her hips and soaked in their surroundings. She whistled. "Fancy place. Pretty nice of them to let us use the actual arena for practice."

Jaune shrugged. "Sure, but it's not like Mistral would try to stop the competition from staying in shape. They've got a fancy training facility all to themselves, so I'm pretty sure they still have the upper hand here."

She eyed him. "Do they, now?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I was working out with Pyrrha a little while ago, so she showed me around. Really high-spec equipment. Didn't know how to use most of it."

His fellow blonde had him in a headlock faster than he could react. "Fraternising with the enemy!? Explain yourself!"

"What do you mean, 'enemy'? She's my friend!" he squawked.

Yang's grip tightened. "Treason! Mutiny!"

"How can that possibly be–"

She removed herself from his person and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. Their eyes met, and Jaune could see the intense fire in hers. "Listen. The walk over from the hotel was _fifteen minutes_. In that time, I feel as though I overheard at least half the city talk about how the Sanctum kids are gonna wipe our asses with the back end of a sponge. I will not be disrespected like that."

Slowly, Jaune raised his hand to her wrist in an attempt to get her to let go. Just like that, her arms shot back down to her sides.

"It's not a great feeling, is it?" asked the Arc boy.

A reluctant nod was as much as she was willing to entertain the question, though she seemed to relax a little. "….So you really _do _know the invincible girl, huh?"

He looked at her strangely. " That's what I've been saying."

"It's just, you know…"

"Hard to believe?" he offered with an amused quirk of the eyebrow.

"Yeah, that," she admitted. Pyrrha Nikos was such a high-profile individual that she would've had an easier time wrapping her head around it if he'd told her he was best buds with Spruce Willis instead.

Jaune felt the need to paint the Mistralian girl in a better light. "I'm sure you'd get along if you met her. She's a very nice person."

It didn't have the intended result, however. Yang's frown deepened, and she flinched. "Yeah."

"Is something wrong?"

The blonde girl's shoulders slumped, but she didn't give him a straight answer. "It's nothing."

Jaune wasn't convinced, but didn't pry further. He trusted that his friend would share her feelings if she felt it was necessary.

"So… where's your dad? I would've thought he was coming with you, since –you know– he's our coach."

The change in topic was appreciated, if the sudden shift in her mood was any indication. "Bah. He was too slow getting ready, so I went ahead."

Jaune checked his scroll for the time. "But… we still have fifteen minutes?"

A shrug. "Whatevs. That's fifteen minutes that we'll be spending on warmups. Let's go in."

She dragged him into the building by the side of his collar.

It didn't make much sense that Yang would be ready to leave before her father. Tai was a generally low-maintenance individual who could wake up and be out the door in less than ten minutes. Yang? Not so much.

She'd been out of character this morning. Something _was _wrong.

"You're nervous too, right?"

Her feet were suddenly planted under her. She didn't turn around, so he couldn't get a read on her expression. "Maybe."

He tapped his knuckles on the side of her head.

She whipped around. "Hey!"

"Let's win this thing."

She stood there and stared for a moment.

"…Yeah."

XX

With the whole team gathered in front of him, Taiyang Xiao Long clapped his hands encouragingly. "Congratulations everyone, we made it. Signal hasn't been to this stage in over twenty years. Be proud."

The five competitors smiled back. Yang added a quick "Damn straight!"

While he appreciated her enthusiasm, he should remind her to be mindful of her language later.

Close by, in the first row of the empty stands, his youngest jumped to her feet. "You guys are awesome! Don't worry, we'll be back next year too! You'll have _me, _after all," she announced, her words of encouragement being more of a boast than anything.

The man shook his head. At least neither of his daughters lacked in confidence. "Will we, now? Let's see if you can finish making your weapon in time."

A scarlet blush ran up Ruby's cheeks. "Phooey! My baby is going to be a _masterpiece_! You can't rush art, dad!"

He chuckled. She was right, he supposed. That scythe she was trying to make was definitely an ambitious project, which was why the teaching staff gave her an extension. Nevertheless, she didn't have a weapon yet, so she couldn't compete this year. She was definitely a marvel in combat training, however, so he fully believed Signal could make it back to the World Tournament at some point in the near future.

Mocha, who stood next to him, crossed her arms with a huff. "You're not done yet, though! The first-round match is with Mistral; they're the favourites to win the whole thing. Did you all watch the tapes I sent you?"

Yang rolled her eyes. "_Yes_, we watched the tapes. Pyrrha's a bigshot. We get it."

"Don't worry about Pyrrha Nikos! That's Jaune's problem," she chided, pointing at the blonde boy who shuffled on his feet awkwardly after being singled out. "There are four other people on that team, you know. Did you see the–"

"Spreadsheets? Wouldn't miss 'em," was the blonde's dry reply.

Mocha was nothing if not meticulous. The girl went through most, if not _all _the footage she could get on the team's opponents before every match, and documented what she felt was important to remember. From there, she made measured guesses on who could fight who, and even put together some basic statistics such as wining percentages and matchup tendencies. All in all, it was something the _coach _should be doing, but Taiyang had long since accepted that she could do a much better job.

She wasn't much of a fighter, but there wasn't a doubt in anyone's mind that she had a bright career ahead of her.

Mocha nodded, ignoring Yang's flippant attitude. "Good. Then let's talk strategy."

Tai took it from there. "Our best bet is to go for the sweep– if we win the first two matches, then we won't even have to worry about the invincible girl. Mistral _realizes _that this is what most of their opponents go for, though, so expect nothing short of their best fighters the whole way through. They'll probably put Sage Ayana up first as a power move, and have Arslan Altan as the second-rounder to clean up in case Ayana can't win. Getting past either of them will be tough– especially Altan, since she was one hell of a lock before Nikos joined the team."

He placed his hands on Zhang's shoulder. "You're going to fight the first match."

The boy blinked. "Me?"

It was Mocha who explained, "Sage Ayana is strong _and _explosive. His losses are usually a result of someone out-speeding him, but that's easier said than done. If anyone can do it, it's you, though you'll have to be careful to not let him land a blow on you."

"Yang," her father addressed her, "you've got Arslan Altan."

She grinned and smashed her fists together. "Gotcha. I hear she packs a punch, so I'll have to show everyone that I pack an even _bigger _punch."

Mocha went on to run the team through hypotheticals while Tai pulled Jaune to the side. "Look. There's a real possibility that we won't be able to take both matches, and you'll probably have to go up against Pyrrha Nikos."

The boy smiled in response. "I understand. I'm ready."

"I just want you to know, no-one will hold it against you if you lose. There's a _reason _they call her the invincible girl. We're all proud of you, and we couldn't have made it this far without you. Just do your best, and don't worry about anything else."

"Oh… okay."

The man slapped him on the shoulder encouragingly. "Okay. I want you to focus on sparring with Zhang today. You're similar enough to what he should expect from his opponent, so the more he can get used to fighting _you_, the better his odds."

"Got it," he agreed easily.

He walked off towards Amethyst and Taka– likely to give them their own instructions.

Despite himself, Jaune clenched his fists.

…No one expected him to win, right? No one would hold it against him if he lost, since that's what was going to happen either way.

What a terrible feeling.

A deep breath. He slapped himself on the cheeks.

"None of that," he whispered to himself, forcing his body to relax.

If no-one thought that he could do this, then he'd have to prove them wrong.

XX

Their session progressed smoothly. Jaune didn't even realize their booked time was up until the Atlas coach came in and kindly asked them to leave.

Yang wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. "Well, then! Shower time."

"Wrap it up, everyone," her father spoke to them. "Get some rest. We'll have one more practice the day after tomorrow, then I want you all to focus your efforts on staying healthy until the first day of the tournament."

He received a chorus of agreement in return. As they moved out to make room for the incoming Atlas team, Yang herded Mocha and Jaune.

"You know, I'd ask you two if you'd want to hang out tonight, but I'm spent."

The brunette nodded sympathetically. "I know what _I'm _doing tonight. My parents let sis loose on the city, so it'll probably be up to me to drag her back home before sundown."

"Not fun."

"Terrible."

"I know, right!?" she cried pitifully. "She'd always beg mom to let her stay home alone whenever we went on family vacations. Why the sudden change of heart _now_?"

Jaune shrugged. "Maybe she wants to be here for moral support?"

"…"

"…"

"Sorry. Silly me."

"And you, Jaune?" asked Yang. "You've got like, what, _six _sisters with you back in the hotel? I can't imagine that's any better than having to deal with Coco."

He shook his head with a smile. "No, they can be rowdy sometimes, but they're well behaved for the most part– at least when we're on trips where we can't get away from each other. I'd say my night's going to be fairly easygoing."

"Smooth and uneventful? Luck you."

He laughed. "Yeah, lucky– hm?"

His scroll buzzed.

"What is it?" asked Mocha.

Jaune took a moment to read the text he received from his mother.

_"Thetis and Pyrrha are joining us for dinner tonight. Will you be home soon?"_

"Ah. My mom just wanted to know how long I'd be. We're meeting up with Pyrrha's family again later."

Just like Yang earlier, it was Mocha's turn to act up. "I know you said you knew each other, but it's just… strange to think about. She's our biggest hurdle, and yet you two are having a family get-together with the tournament right around the corner."

He could see where they were coming from, in a way. They would be fighting each other soon, and he was acting as if it wasn't a big deal.

And yet, the contrary was true. This _was _a big deal. He _had _to beat Pyrrha, for his own peace of mind if nothing else.

Pyrrha didn't think that way, not that they knew that.

_If I win, then I win; if I lose, then all that really happens is that I lose. People will be mad, disappointed, all of that… but no matter the outcome, this is just entertainment. Nothing more._

It made him angry to be on the receiving end of that way of thought. It _sucked _that she probably wasn't thinking about the match anywhere near as much as he was.

It was for the same reason that he couldn't bring himself to be angry at _her_. She was an absolutely pleasant human being, and her ability to look past their imminent confrontation shouldn't be held against her.

"Don't think too much of it. Trust me, no one wants to beat her more than I do."

They seemed to accept that easily enough.

"If you say so. Just remember to give her hell," was Yang's eventual half-joking reply.

Mocha nodded sagely. "Yeah! Gotta get in the zone when the time comes. Your adulterous relationship with this woman will have to be put behind you if you want to come out on top."

…

"Adulterous?" was all that Jaune could say. Yang was equally confused, though she had a bad feeling about where this was heading.

"Hn. Poor Yang will feel like you don't love her anymore if you keep cheating on her with other– hmf!"

Yang's arm caught Mocha in the throat with a quick and efficient lariat, grounding her instantly. "Would you quit it with those shitty jokes already? No one's laughin'!"

Mocha was laughing. Very much so.

"Ahem."

The trio turned their attention to the fourth voice. They were met with the dispassionate glare of a beret-wearing dark-skinned girl. "You three have overstayed your welcome by thirty-three seconds. Please leave, so that our team may commence our practice."

"Oh. Yeah."

"Our bad. Sorry!"

"Good luck!"

Their words were ignored. The girl huffed, spun around, and walked back to her team.

Jaune felt the need to leave her with different parting words, "If we meet up next round, let's have a good match!"

She stopped. Without turning, she answered laconically, "As if you'd make it that far."

The three didn't know how to react to the statement.

Well, two of them didn't.

"Bitch," growled Yang.

XX

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Someone let them in!" called Isabelle from another room of the suite.

Jaune was quick to realize that "someone" was going to be him, as he was the closest to the door and neither his father nor his sisters were making any move to stop whatever they were occupying themselves with. With a slightly hurried step so as not to keep their guests waiting, he shuffled his way towards the entrance.

"Welcome," was the simple greeting he settled on as he opened the door.

Pyrrha Nikos smiled at him with a wave of her hand. Jaune returned the gesture easily. She was well-dressed as always, though this time her wardrobe allowed her to escape with a simple red pencil dress.

Relatively simple, at least.

"Good evening, Jaune," spoke Thetis from behind her daughter. She wore fitted jeans and a turtleneck: nice, doubtlessly, but much more normal apparel compared to the younger of the two.

The pair was ushered in, and the rest of the Arc family had them settled shortly. They all sat around a long table with Jacques at the head. Only Isabelle and Saphron were missing.

"It was kind of you to have us over tonight," Thetis thanked them with a polite nod in Jacques' direction.

He grinned. "Think nothing of it. You've been treating us often these past two weeks; it's about time that we returned the favour."

And it was true. The Arc family often found themselves in the company of the two women during their stay. Thetis had brought them all to all sorts of local hotspots, be it a restaurant or a historical landmark. Even when Pyrrha and Jaune were busy training with their respective teams, the woman would spend time with the rest of the family.

They got along swimmingly, so to say.

Isabelle and her daughter joined them with two large roasts in hand. "We're less than a week away from the main event now. Do you two feel prepared?"

Jaune and Pyrrha both answered her with a smile.

"Certainly."

"Very much."

Garnet, ever the shit disturber, patted her little brother on the back. "So, think you can win or nah?"

A silence engulfed the table. No one knew what to say.

Jaune was looking straight at his soon-to-be adversary. He was looking for something, not that anyone knew what that something was.

She was staring right back.

Hah. He was wrong, then. How relieving.

He broke the tension first. His blank expression slowly melting into a good-natured smirk, he looked Pyrrha right in the eyes. "You bet."

To the Arc sisters' surprise, she matched it with a simper of her own. "Oh? I'd love to see you try."

Known only to them, they understood each other a little better that day.

XX

A cloaked woman rode through the forest on horseback. Tapping her mount gently on the side, she urged it to slow down.

"So this is the place, then."

There wasn't much in front of her– quite the opposite, really. No trees no grass, nothing. Just a wide clearing of dead earth.

She had been trying to convince the professor to give her directions for the longest time, but he had always refused until just recently. He kept prattling on about how it was too risky for her to go alone, and that they couldn't afford to lose her.

Not that she cared.

This was something she _had _to do. Her partner –her best friend– died, and she wasn't there for her. Why would she be? Her partner wasn't in any danger. She was on a simple relief mission. If her little brother was allowed to go with her, it couldn't have been anything more than that.

And yet, she died anyway.

It wasn't a freak accident. It couldn't have been. _She wouldn't believe it._ That's why she had spent the last few years of her life trying to understand what had _really _happened.

She could admit, albeit regretfully, that her efforts had taken over her life. She didn't keep in touch with her old team –what was left of it, at least– and she hadn't been able to look after her partner's family when she passed. The father was a respected huntsman in his own right, and had handled the situation admirably, as she understood it, but that didn't lessen the sense of obligation that ate away at her.

Maybe one day, once she could leave behind her regrets. Once she learned the truth. Only then could she face them and look them in the eye.

She got off the horse, crouching down to run her fingers through the dirt.

"It _is _burnt. Was there really a town here? There's no rubble."

Towns were lost frequently to the grimm. Whether the people escaped or perished along with it, the sights were usually similar. Collapsed houses, remnants of destroyed properties, and the like.

Ruins, in a word.

But there was none of that. It was as if everything simply… disappeared.


	8. Some things go your way

(A/N) And so it begins!

XX

Jaune found it was immediately made evident that the international matches would be a much bigger deal than all of the Vale conference put together. The team from Signal hadn't even made its way into the building yet, but _they _could still be heard.

The crowd.

The cheers were hammers on his ears, nearly toppling him over. Why did he feel physically attacked? It was only noise, after all.

Maybe it was his nerves.

The boy put a hand up to his rapidly beating heart with a grimace. It wasn't this bad earlier the same morning, but all of a sudden the organ threatened to jump right out of his chest.

A deep breath.

Focus.

It wasn't like him to get rattled in front of an audience. If he could say so himself, he _thrived _every time he took the stage up until this point. His dealings were his _own_, and he wouldn't let something so trivial get in the way of his battle with Pyrrha.

And it _will _happen, he could feel it. Locks were only tiebreakers, but knowing who'd be competing, a third match couldn't be avoided in this scenario.

He could win.

He _would _win.

A hand slapped him on the back. "Chin up, big guy!" Yang encouraged him. "Let's get this party rolling with a fat double-u!"

He smiled. "Yeah."

He wasn't able to walk ahead, though. Zhang stood in front of him.

"Respected upperclassman!"

Jaune wanted to sigh. The guy would address him this way whenever he was feeling uptight about something.

"Is there something wrong?"

"I…" he trailed off. Shaking his head, he tried again with more conviction. "I'll give it my all today! Please, count on me!"

The mentioned upperclassman gave his junior a look that he hoped was reassuring. Placing both hands firmly on his shoulders, he replied, "We all know you will, though you should try to believe in yourself as much as _we _believe in you. You're here for a reason, Zhang."

Both Amethyst and Taka showed signs of their approval when they took hold of the boy and cheered him on in their own way. At his side, Yang just smiled warmly. She knew nothing else needed to be said.

Everyone –even Taiyang– jumped a little when Jaune slapped his cheeks with enough force to leave a bright red mark.

"Alright!"

This was no time to stress out. He had to set a good example for those that would be taking his place next year.

XX

Up in their channel-given commentator booth inside the arena proper, Dorothy and Morado took their seats. Rather than their usual attire, they wore a uniform. A baby-blue collared shirt with the lettering _"World Tournament: Mistral" _embroidered onto the right breast. On the left, a logo depicting the head of a brown cartoon bunny. Many would recognize it, as it was the mascot of the event sponsor: Mistral's own internationally-recognized cereal brand, _Pumpkin Pete's._

Morado put on an audio headset and talked into the attached microphone for viewers everywhere to hear.

"Here we are, Dory! Day one of the Huntsman Primary Combat School World Tournament, hosted this year by the Kingdom of Mistral."

"Indeed we are, Mory," responded Dorothy with an audio set of her own, "We have round one between Mistral's Sanctum Academy and Vale's Signal Academy, which is shaping up to be a _very _entertaining competition."

"I agree. Mistral's the favourite to win here, obviously, but you've got to give a lot of credit to the competitors and coaching staff at Signal. They have two of Remnant's brightest-shining huntsmen-to-be in Yang Xiao Long and Jaune Arc, who've been nothing short of stellar up to this point."

"We're roughly seven minutes away from our first match of the day," observed Dorothy. "Any thoughts on what the team rotations might be?"

As scripted as the pre-event broadcast likely was, Morado took the time to think before giving his answer. "Mistral has the edge, so I'm thinking they'll just keep on doing what they have been up until now and Vale will try to adjust to _their_ tried and true formula."

"So you think Mistral will stick with Ayana and Altan," Dorothy clarified.

"Definitely. If they have any hopes of sweeping, the need to be able to out-speed Ayana. They can't rely on Xiao Long, though, because they need her to face Altan."

"So the Altan-Xiao Long matchup is a forgone conclusion in your mind?"

Morado scoffed. "Isn't it? She's their only available member who can go toe-to-toe with her, and even then it's a tossup."

"I'm not sure if anyone else on the signal team _is _fast enough, Mory."

"Who knows, Dory, they might just get lucky."

XX

_"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the World Tournament!"_

The announcements and the accompanying cheers could still be heard through the walls of the locker room. It was a good thing, in a sense, since it gave them a good idea of how much time they had left.

_"Introducing Vale's representative team!"_

Taiyang took the time to look at each one of his students in the eye. "That's our cue. It'll be just like the conference matches. When they call your name, head out onto the arena floor. I won't lie, it's gonna be _much _more intimidating than the other arenas you've been to so far, but make sure your confidence and composure shines its way through to the crowd."

He smiled. "Show that _you _think you're already on top. I'm proud of all of you; do your best out there."

_"Amethyst Adamantine!"_

The younger girl took a deep breath. She wouldn't be competing today, but that didn't mean that she could show weakness. Her eyes hardened as she stepped out of the locker room door.

_"Taka Ito!"_

"Alright!" she whispered with a fist-pump, her raven-coloured hair bobbing in its ponytail. She was soft-spoken as usual, but at least she was trying to psych herself up.

_"Zhang Wei!"_

He didn't speak, simply taking off in a stiff march. No one said anything because of the fire burning clearly –passionately– in his eyes.

_"Yang Xiao Long!"_

"Ha!" she laughed, slamming her fists together. She followed up by knocking them against Jaune, Mocha, and her father's shoulders as she passed them.

The blonde girl stopped just before she left their line of sight, turning towards them once more with a grin. "Sorry, Jaune! You might not be able to fight what's-her-name after all. I'm about to knock the–"

"Yang, just go," her father told her off with an amused shake of the head.

She waved her arm over her back and ran off.

_"Lock, Jaune Arc!"_

He closed his eyes and rested his hand on _Luminosité Éternelle's _pommel.

The hands of his "coaches" pushed him forward, making him stumble a little.

"Don't got all day, here, blondie," joked Mocha.

"Chin up! We can't be with you guys down there, but we'll be supporting you from the stands," added Taiyang with a toothy grin, unknowingly emulating his daughter.

Jaune smiled and slipped out of the room.

He could see the light of the arena blearing through the darkness of the dimly-lit tunnel, though not much else. A foot forward, then another. He grew more confident with every step.

The team lock almost had to shield his eyes once he made it out. The mid-day Mistralian sun was harsh, it would seem.

Somehow, the noises were even louder once he was actually outside.

He took an instant to soak in his surroundings. The Keii Colosseum in all of its glory was filled to the brim with spectators from all four Kingdoms. He couldn't see them, but he knew they were here, somewhere: the Huntsman Academy affiliates who would be treating the whole affair as an evaluation of the next year's top applicants.

He squared his shoulders. _He'd _be at that top of their list.

He joined his four teammates on the center stage. They stood in a line facing the tunnel on the opposite end of the arena where Sanctum Academy's finest would emerge.

_"Introducing Mistral's representative team!"_

While there might have been an international crowd, it was still skewed in Mistral's favour. The cheers somehow got even _louder._

_"Nadir Shiko!"_

Stepping forth was a tall, dark-skinned young man. The sides of his head were cropped short with an undercut, while the rest of his pink hair was held in a ponytail. He had some sort of gun, but Jaune couldn't tell if it had a mechashift from where he stood.

_"Scarlet David!"_

The second's complexion was the complete opposite of the first, though his hair, while a darker shade of red, was styled quite similarly. It was let loose to droop over his face rather than tied back. There were either red markings under his eye or it was simply a trick of the light. Again, he was a little far.

_"Sage Ayana!"_

He was… very large. He seemed like the type who you didn't want hitting you, and _definitely _not with that huge slab of metal that could be mistaken for some sort of weapon. Seriously, was that a sword or something?

He was covered in tattoos. The ones on his neck in particular stood out a lot. Paired with his scowl, angry-looking eyes and gelled, spiky green hair, he did a good job of pulling off the tough-guy look.

Zhang had one hell of a match ahead of him.

_"Arslan Altan!"_

She was strong. That much could be deduced with but a glance. She strode forward with confidence that couldn't possibly be bravado.

Her wild mane of platinum-blond hair contrasted heavily with her complexion. If Jaune had to compare her to something, it would be a lion.

Next to him, Yang grinned viciously. He could already tell how much she was looking forward to this.

_"And last, but not least…"_

The speaker system played a loud, slow, and rhythmic drum beat. Those from Mistral –and some that weren't– were going crazy as they stomped their feet in time with the sound.

Though it could technically be seen as a form of favouritism to hype-up one contestant more than others, it was definitely understandable why they would do it, if not outright forgiven. The "invincible girl" shouldn't be held to the same standards as a normal person, after all.

_"Lock!"_

The stomping grew louder as a figure emerged.

To Jaune's surprise, she played into the passion of the audience. Dressed like every bit the warrior she was, Pyrrha slammed her weapon into her shield in tune with the stomps.

_"Pyrrha. Nikos!_

She shouted –it could not be mistaken for anything other than the cry of a champion– and the crowd shouted along with her.

This was what it meant to be adored.

This was what it meant to be put on a pedestal.

This was what it meant to have the expectations of the world placed on your shoulders.

She stood along with her teammates, directly facing him. Her staple smile was plastered to her face, though it seemed a little more challenging than what he was used to.

He matched it with a smile of his own.

_"Match one of three will begin shortly! Mistral and Vale teams, please make your way to your standby boxes. Your elected participant may remain on the arena floor."_

Jaune could see the Sanctum students walking away, giving Sage Ayana nothing more than a slap on the back as they passed him. Not a wordy bunch, were they?

Signal, on the other hand…

"Kick ass, and take names!" Yang shouted as she draped herself over a stammering Zhang. "No, better yet, kick _his _ass and take _his _name! I'll be calling _you_ Ayana at the end of this whole shebang, ya get?"

He had to shake his head at his friend's nonsensical rambling. Signal was a little rowdier.

"Good luck."

"Get 'em, tiger."

"Break a leg!"

"You'll do great."

Signal's participants joined their adversaries from Sanctum off to the side. They shared a space: a large, glass-boxed area with two long benches for them to sit on. The only thing to separate them was a waist-high screen with some sort of product advertisement on it.

"Hey. Signal kids."

Nadir Shiko grinned at Vale's representatives once he got their attention.

"Yes?" answered Jaune politely.

The grin widened. "I hope you liked your visit, because you won't be here for much longer."

Yang's finger twitched. Noticing, Jaune put a hand on her knee to calm her down. She stiffened right up, for whatever reason, but at least she got the message.

"Nadir," admonished Arslan. "Be mindful of what you say. You aren't competing today, so don't go picking fights."

"Should you really be telling them that?" questioned pink-haired student uneasily.

"As if it makes a difference," she scoffed. "They won't make it past the second round anyway, let alone beat Pyrrha."

Ah. She told him to stop picking fights, then she went and picked one on her own.

"Hey, now…" mumbled Scarlet. There was no reason to be mean, was there?

Pyrrha just kept on smiling.

Yang was _not _smiling. "You're gonna _eat _those words."

Arslan didn't bother answering. She crossed her arms and focused her gaze on the combatants.

XX

Zhang stood less than three meters away from Sage. With a stiff back, he bowed.

"Let us have a good battle."

Unexpectedly, Sage returned the gesture, though he didn't say anything.

A horn sounded.

Zhang shot forward as quickly as he could in order to close the distance between himself and his opponent. His weapons –a pair of butterfly swords– were held close to his person.

CLANG

The younger boy shook off the uneasiness he felt when his first blow was easily blocked by the much larger blade. He crouched low to the ground, trying to spin around to his opponent's back.

Sage didn't let him. He merely stuck a leg out behind him, tripping up his attacker who wasn't able to react in time.

Zhang caught himself with his hands and pushed himself in the opposite direction. Once he got his footing, he realized that he was only a hair's breadth from the inbound.

How? He was faster than Ayana, he _knew _it. Somehow, though, Ayana was able to counter him at every opportunity.

Was he that predictable?

XX

"Things aren't going too well for you," spoke Arslan matter-of-factly. Though she didn't look at them, the Signal group knew who she was talking to.

"Hah," laughed Yang shortly. She wasn't looking Mistral's way either. It must have been some petty thought stuck in her head.

Jaune knew she was putting on a brave face. The match wasn't going Zhang's way at all.

He was as fast as always, and that fact alone kept him in the fight up until now. What could have been devastating counters to his thwarted attacks were mere nicks.

Despite that…

A large hologram projected high above the battlefield showed each fighter's respective aura levels. Whereas Sage Ayana couldn't have been down more than a tenth, Zhang was already on his last legs. There was a disparity between the size of their auras, to begin with.

It was unfortunate. Where Zhang was a little below average in that department –something he made up for in others– his adversary was _not_, evidently. Zhang had landed a few solid hits, and yet they were shrugged off as minor nuisances.

If that, even.

There would be no comebacks, here. There was too big a gap in their strength, skill, and experience.

But even so…

"GO, ZHANG! DON'T GIVE UP!" screamed Jaune at the top of his lungs, despite knowing there was no way he'd be heard. It scared the pants off everyone else in the box, though, since they were looking at him like startled animals– even Altan turned away from the match, wide-eyed.

Even if he couldn't be heard, it was his job to support his underclassmen.

His fellow blonde followed suit, screaming something of her own. It wasn't much longer before Amethyst and Taka joined them too.

Mistral's sidelined fighters looked like they didn't know how to react. This wasn't normal, was it?

Except for Pyrrha. Her smile hadn't budged.

XX

Taiyang's smile was a small one, but it was a smile nonetheless. His and Ruby's seats in the crowd were right above the competitor's box, so he could see the antics of his students up close.

Ruby, on the other hand, was pouting. "Awww… Come on, Zhang…"

Knowing his daughter, she was most certainly torn between cheering for her classmate and wondering how she could do better in his place. Good riddance. Maybe she'd get motivated to hurry up and finish her fourth-year project already.

Seriously, what was taking her so long? What was she putting in that thing anyway?

"Zhang's not winning," he said softly. It was hard to say –especially as a teacher– but this was the reality of combat. Zhang was a fourth-year, and Sage Ayana was a graduating sixth-year. This was probably how it was bound to go down from the beginning, though he didn't have the heart to take the boy's hopes away.

Sigh. What a weak-willed man he was.

"Yeah," Ruby lamented.

"He's giving it his all out there."

"Yeah."

"We'll make sure to cheer him up later."

"…Yeah."

XX

His mind was getting hazy.

Zhang panted, glaring ahead doggedly. He wouldn't back down. With the last of his energy, one last time…

One last time…!

"You're still standing," Sage remarked. It was the first thing he had said all day.

The younger of the two adversaries didn't know if it was a sign of annoyance or respect. He didn't have the time to figure it out.

As another first, Sage went on the offensive. His sizable weapon didn't let him run too quickly, but he was far from slow.

The sword was raised, a finishing blow was imminent. Zhang brought both of the butterfly swords up to defend himself, refusing to back off. He would lose here, but so what? He'd be losing more than just the match if he faltered now. He'd give it his all until the very–

A fist landed in his gut, toppling him over. He only noticed how close he was to the line when he heard the announcement.

_"Sage Ayana wins by ring-out! The first match goes to Mistral! We will begin round two in five minutes."_

XX

Round One's fighters returned to their respective benches, though only one was able to make the trip on his own. Zhang was being tailed by the event staff in charge of assuring the safety of the participants.

Scarlet passed on a quick "good job" to his teammate, but the Mistral side was otherwise quiet.

Jaune had his eyes locked on the green-haired man the whole time.

"You good?" Yang asked her younger, perhaps a little unnecessarily. It was clear that he wasn't feeling too great.

Despite this, he smiled. It couldn't hide the sadness contorting his face. "Sorry, I couldn't do it."

"Fourth-year. Tell me your name, and say it clearly."

They all looked to Mistral's side, hearing the words. It was Sage who spoke.

"Me?" Zhang asked helter-skelter. "But they announced it, and all… I'm no-one special, but–"

"Enough. Just speak; I'll remember it this time."

An overbearing silence took hold. Arslan, Nadir, and Scarlet stared at him open-mouthed.

"I… Zhang– My name is Zhang Wei!" the boy spoke, getting louder once he regained a bit of his confidence. He forced himself to his feet.

"…Stay gutsy," was all that Ayana responded with before turning away.

"Hey, hey! Hold it! What's with that half-assed closing remark? Explain yourself." complained Scarlet, though he was given no mind.

Jaune understood. At least, he felt as though he did.

"You did _more _than enough," he whispered. No one heard him.

_"The second round's elected participants are asked to make their way onto the arena floor."_

In sync, Yang and Arslan pushed off from the bench and marched out of the waiting area.

XX

Morado caught sight of a green light appearing on a nearby console. They'd be back on air in three… two…

"Dorothy and Morado, reporting from the break in action. The first matchup of the day might have been a blowout, but it was expected, wouldn't you say, Dory?"

Dorothy hummed. "Yes, but credit will be given where credit is due; that kid held out better than anyone thought he would."

"Do you have higher hopes for what's to come?"

"Absolutely. We're in for a treat here, folks, this is probably the most anticipated fight in the entire first round of the World Tournament."

Morado cocked his head, though it was an action unseen as their commentary broadcast didn't have any cameras on them. "More so than the Nikos match?"

"Yes, and let me tell you why, Mory. Who's winning the 'Nikos match'?"

"Nikos," was the answer. No additional thought was needed.

"And who's winning _this _match?"

Morado came to the conclusion that he couldn't say with the same amount of certainty. "You're saying they're a perfect match for each other, and that neither will have a clear advantage."

"Exactly."

"I disagree. We won't know who wins until it happens, but Xiao Long has a competitive edge. You could argue a difference in competition up until this point, but the difference between a near-perfect record and an _actual _perfect record can't be ignored."

Dorothy laughed. "Interesting assessment as always, Mory. As you said, we'll just have to wait and see."

XX

Facing the blonde in front of her, Arslan Altan frowned. "No one will hold it against you if you back out now. It is not wrong to come to terms with the inevitable."

Yang cracked her knuckles and tilted her head from side to side. "Put a sock in it, lady. Your ass is grass."

"…So be it."

The moment they heard the horn through the colosseum's speaker system, they met at center-stage with a brutal clash of fists. Though they were even, to say they mirrored each other would be a lie. Unrelenting, wrathful slugs were matched with graceful and calculated strikes.

Yang narrowed her eyes. Her weapon, _Ember Celica, _was designed specifically with hand-to-hand combat in mind. It was supposed to give her the upper hand here, and yet…

The two separated.

"How are you doing that?" the Vale native asked, frustrated. Her gauntlets were being warded off by bare fists.

To her dismay, Arslan didn't deign to answer. The woman lowered herself into a practiced stance and waited for their next engagement. A dagger slipped through the length of her sleeve.

She didn't have to wait long, being forced to jump out of the way of a pair of unknown projectiles. It was a good thing she did, since the spot she had occupied only an instant earlier was lit with the blaze of a fiery shockwave.

"Tch. Dust rounds."

Arslan was quick to accept that keeping her distance wouldn't work. She took a deep breath.

Yang closed the gap with an explosive leap that exhibited strength and athleticism that few could hope to achieve. Just before contact–

"Ha!"

Arslan exhaled, thrusting her palm out to catch a gauntlet-covered fist backed by a mighty cross.

BOOM

XX

Ruby watched the bout unfold with her mouth agape. "She just punched _Ember Celica _like it was nothing! Who _does _that? Not even Jaune does that, and Jaune is Jaune! Is it a semblance?"

Tai shook his head. "No, it's a little more complicated than that, both in theory _and _in practice. You'd be hard-pressed to find many huntsmen or huntresses confident enough in their ability and self-discipline to even try it."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at the aura gauges."

She did just that, and her eyes widened. "Arslan's aura is lower than it should be. Yang hasn't even hit her yet."

"She's redirecting the flow of aura in her body as she moves; her attack power increases exponentially, but it eats away at her only line of defense. It's likely that she won't be able to hold out for much longer."

Ruby's eyes brightened. "Yang's gonna win, then!"

Another shake. "It's too early to say for certain. Altan's tapes have demonstrated that in similar circumstances she can find ways to turn things around in her favour. She has a few more cards up her sleeve, I'll bet."

XX

Yang grinned. She didn't really understand when it happened, but somewhere along the way she got the upper hand on the stuck up bitch. Whereas her opponent was sweating like a pig, she felt fresh as a daisy.

Well, almost.

One last push, then!

Out of habit more than anything else, she slammed her gauntleted fists together. The loud "clang!" that came from _Ember Celica _sounded like music to her ears.

She relished the feeling of superiority that flooded her being as Altan backpedaled, faced with her advance.

"I won't let you get away~" she singsonged. Growing cocky –and more assured of her victory– she accelerated by blasting kinetic rounds into the ground behind her.

The dark-skinned woman planted her feet.

"Wha–"

Arslan threw her dagger– a weapon she had yet to use for any prolonged amount of time the entire match– right at her head. Not able to fight against her momentum, she craned her neck and deflected it with the side of her gauntlet.

That was a mistake.

For reasons that weren't immediately apparent, Arslan swung her arm to the side.

There were three meters between them.

Two.

Yang's arms were suddenly pulled tightly into her person, making her lose her balance. She tumbled to the floor violently, rolling until she was stopped by Arslan's foot.

The platinum-blonde smirked viciously. She curled her fingers into a long fist; the aura gathered around it was so concentrated that it was visible to the naked eye.

Yang panicked. What just happened? Why couldn't she move her arms?

Her eyes darted down to her torso. She was wrapped in an incredibly thin wire.

"You–!"

"Goodnight."

Yang felt the two knuckles against her cheek vividly before the pain that followed.

The earth beneath them cratered, forming a cloud of dust and debris that enveloped the whole stage.

XX

Taka, Zhang, and Amethyst sighed in relief when Yang's aura didn't drop below fifteen percent. She was still in the match– by a good margin, too since the gauge had her closer to thirty. A much safer number than Arslan Altan's twenty.

"Safe," cheered Taka under her breath.

"Not exactly," corrected Jaune with trepidation thick in his voice.

"Eh?" the three looked to him.

"Aura is a fickle thing," Sage told them from the other end of the box. "It's like armor in the sense that you can bypass it entirely if you know what you're doing. If I know Altan like I think I do, then your friend just took a knockout blow to the head. Her aura might be good to go, but it won't mean much if she's unconscious."

The younger Signal students' eyes widened as it dawned on them that this might be the end of the road for them. Jaune kept staring ahead.

Unbeknownst to those present, Pyrrha's smile dropped into an unreadable expression. Her eyes locked onto Jaune with deep thought.

XX

From where she sat with her family, Mocha bit her nails nervously. She knew what a strike like that could mean.

She'd seen Yang do it plenty of times, after all.

Next to her, a slight forward lean was the only indication given of Coco's own anticipation.

XX

"Yang is…" Ruby trailed off.

Taiyang didn't say a word, nor did he look away from the cloud that started to clear.

XX

Arslan's chest heaved. That was it. That was all she had left to give. Xiao Long really pushed her down to the wire.

She chanced a look behind herself, realizing bemusedly that if the blonde reached her she'd be out of bounds, if not out of aura.

The final wisps of dust disappeared. The proctors would see the incapacitated state of her foe, and she'd be named–

Arslan's pupils constricted into pinpoints. "No!"

Yang stood up– if it could be called standing in the first place. Her legs found uneasy footing over the broken strings that had once restrained her.

The tips of her thick golden locks curled like the licks of a flame.

…It _was _a flame.

Quickly, the flame turned into a fire, then a blaze. Yang Xiao Long lit up like a human inferno.

She was a woman reborn. She planted her feet firmly, showing no more signs of a muddled mind.

"Shoulda hit a little harder."

Arslan scoffed.

"Clench those–"

_"Yang Xiao Long wins by ring-out! The second match goes to Vale! Both locks are asked to prepare for a tiebreaker."_

Huh?

Yang stood dumbly with her hand outstretched. Her semblance faded.

Arslan, who had taken a voluntary step backward, placed her hands on her hips. "An… adequate display. The audience would be disappointed if they couldn't see Nikos perform today, so I suppose I can forfeit my victory. Be thankful."

Yang's jaw dropped. "Thankful? I had you! Checkmate! _Game over_! You just chickened out."

"You did not 'have me," mocked the other. "Didn't you hear me? I gave you the fight."

For the umpteenth time, Yang's brow twitched viciously.

She was prideful, this one.


	9. And some things don't

(A/N) Aaaand an update. I'm sorry to anyone expecting this chapter a little sooner. I fully blame Monster Hunter World. I spent a good while trying to stop those two Rajang from using me as a cum rag, but I eventually caved and fired an SOS flare. On the bright side, I've got my event armor now.

And so, one completely unrelated story later, here we are. Actually not quite, since I've got another one for you.

I'm putting up a list of stories I'm itching to write (but won't have the time for right now) in my bio, along with a short explanation for why I would or wouldn't go through with the idea. I'll also set up a poll to see which of those ideas should be my go-to if I ever find the extra time or I finish one of my on-going stories. I'd love to hear y'all's input:)

Without further ado, the part we've all been waiting for! Yay! I hope it lives up to expectations; I'm not much for fight scenes in general. In fact, you'll find most of mine (as well as this one) are less about the fighting and more about what's going on between the lines.

Enjoy!

XX

Those watching the event through a television would be pleased to see the advertisements from the break in action come to an end. The digital screen flashed _"Mistral Live, with Dorothy and Morado: Overtime" _before presenting the live video feed from the on-stage camera.

The event maintenance crew was just about done setting the stage for the final fight. They flashed quick hand signals to each other and vacated the area.

Long-time watchers of the event would know that this was a sign that the lock fight would begin in a few minutes, which left the Kingdom's most well-known pair of event broadcasters little time to get through their coverage of the previous fight– content that would have otherwise gone over in-depth during their post-game show.

"Wow, Dory, just _wow_. Was that a fight, or _what_?"

Though neither could be seen, Morado knocked his cohost in the shoulder with genuine enthusiasm.

Dorothy rolled her eyes in an equally non-transmissible fashion, though she smiled back. "I suppose it was, Mory, but I'm afraid it won't mean much in the grand scheme of things. The viewers get to see Nikos in action early, but that's about it. Vale isn't going to shock anyone today."

"Ever the pessimist."

"What, you think differently?" she shot back, as if daring him to do so.

"I suppose not," he gave in begrudgingly. Were it any other circumstance, Morado would have forced the issue until they fell back on their usual debates –it was a key part of their show's programming, after all– but they were short on time as it was. "Not to take anything away from Xiao Long, however. Not many can push through something like that. Aura's got nothing to do with it, folks! That's all nit and grit."

For once, his partner agreed with him. "Definitely. If she can take a full-force blow to the skull like that and keep on going, then all the power to her."

A horn blared. It was a sign to both the audience to return to their seats, and a signal to the referees and scouts to prepare themselves.

"Sounds like the locks will enter the field of play any moment now, Dory." He laughed. "I won't bother asking you who have as the victor, though."

She laughed along with him. "Smart decision, Mory. Though I must say, I feel bad for Arc. I would've liked to see how he stacks up against the other two locks participating in the tournament."

"Mhm," he hummed his approval somberly. "His scouting report is going to be skewed by an oh-one loss and a first-round exit. I'd wager the kid would've done a lot better for himself if Vale was up against anyone other than Mistral."

Dorothy sighed. "Yes, but the same could be said for whoever fights Nikos either way, whether it's him or whoever takes Vale's place in a such hypothetical situation."

Their time was up.

"Indeed. Thanks for your input, Dory."

"Any time, Mory."

XX

Yang's eye wouldn't stop twitching from the moment they made their way back to the benches. Her glare was set firmly on the young woman she had just bested in combat.

Arslan, on the other hand, refused to make eye contact.

Jaune knew that he wasn't the only one feeling a little awkward about the tension. Competitors from both sides were making a visible effort to not get in between the two of them.

Thankfully, the sentiment wasn't shared by all.

"Yang, you were so cool!" squealed Taka. The words gushed out of her mouth as if she had been trying to keep her mouth shut for a while, and finally gave in to the temptation. Quiet though she may be, but that was frequently pitted against her excitability.

Often, that excitability won out.

The older girl blushed and scratched the back of her head. "Gee, ya think so?"

"Yeah!" the brunette affirmed easily.

Yang's fellow blonde watched the pair with a weak smile.

_That girl's ego is big enough as it is, Taka._

The sixth-years' good moods were squashed by an audible scoff from Nadir. "You got lucky. Arc won't be."

Yang smiled at him, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Ya talk a lot of shit for someone who isn't fighting, bud."

Jaune leaned forward with a nervous chuckle, trying to obstruct her view of the boy who caught her ire. "Come, now, there's no need for that, is there? Let the better fighter win, and no hard feelings after that. Yeah?"

CLINK

Everyone in the box whipped their heads towards Pyrrha. She had gotten up from her seat on the bench.

"Jaune."

It was the first thing she had said all day. He got up too and faced her squarely.

She stared him down. "I'm going to win."

Most would have taken it as an insult– an affirmation meant to get into her opponent's head; a vocalisation of the gap between the "invincible girl" and the unlucky chump caught facing the pointed end of her blade.

He knew her better than that.

If she knew that her adversary was outclassed, then she wouldn't say anything at all. The _last _thing she'd want would be to discourage the other fighter any more than they already were.

This was a challenge.

Everyone from Signal –Amethyst, Taka, Zhang, Yang– prepared to defend him with protests of varied intensity. He acted before they could.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," he shot back with a grin

Yang blinked owlishly. Knowing him as long as she had, being confrontational like that was out of character for him. Was he competitive? Absolutely, but he'd never just come out and say it to someone's face.

At least not usually.

Sanctum's team was equally puzzled. Throughout their admittedly short season together, Pyrrha Nikos had always been more of a wallflower despite her fame and strength. To see her call someone out was definitely new.

What could he have possibly done to make her this mad?

Neither Pyrrha nor Jaune backed away. Their confident smiles were locked in place.

XX

It was strange. After their short quip, all the tension –the nervousness– seeped out of him and was replaced by anticipation. By _confidence_.

The battlefield was not a place for doubt, his father would always tell him. Due to the mechanisms of his semblance, the importance of that advice was twofold. For now, he would forget about the consequences were he to fail, and focus only on what he could do to _win_.

Winning here was something very few seemed to think he could do, not that he could blame anyone for thinking that way. For how often he's heard people call her invincible, he almost started to believe it himself.

_Almost_.

Both he and Pyrrha had nothing else to do but wait, now standing face to face in the middle of an arena that suddenly felt a lot larger than it had before. That was saying a lot too, since it already seemed big to begin with.

Being at the center of it all –center stage, but also at the center of attention– made him feel small. The matches up to now didn't feel like this. _Never _like this.

It excited him, he decided.

He would fight the odds here. He would _prove_ that he could fight the odds.

His eyes were pulled away from his opponent, first finding the competitor's box where he knew his teammates were looking back. Next, they lingered further up where he knew their coach and manager would be, respectively.

Finally, they landed where he knew a certain row of seats would be; where his family was sitting.

_You don't have to worry about me anymore. I'll be fine_.

If there was one message he wanted to convey, that was it.

_"Lock fighters! Are you ready?"_

The announcement was more for the sake of the audience than it was for them. He was ready for this moment long before now, and he'd wager Pyrrha was the same.

The crowd, full once again after the brief intermission, came to life with the loudest series of cheers he'd heard all day.

The redhead before him removed the shield from her back. Her weapon was unsheathed, and quickly shifted into a javelin.

Her eyes were sharp.

Jaune didn't reciprocate just yet. He rested his palm on the hilt of _Luminosité Éternelle. _"You've been awfully quiet, you know."

Her lips quirked upwards, amused by the way his small-talk cut through the solemnity brought on by the magnitude of the event. "Now is not the time, nor place for an exchange of words. Today, I speak with my blade and listen in turn with my shield."

A referee stepped forward and raised a hand in a cutting motion. The crowd grew quiet.

The horn sounded.

Time to test the waters, then. He swung his polearm at Pyrrha's weapon rather than her person in an attempt to catch her flatfooted. It seemed to work, as the javelin was pushed away, leaving her vulnerable.

The low grip he held on _Luminosité Éternelle _for his wide sweep was abandoned in favour of a firm, two-handed one. He got in close, ready to stab–

The polearm was intercepted by a sword.

He pulled away the moment he felt contact lest he fall into a trap of her own making. Now with more room, he got a better look at the new weapon.

It was the same one. It mecha-shifted into a xiphos.

He smiled nervously.

Seriously? She was able to pull something like changing weapon forms mid-swing?

That was insane.

The familiarity with one's weapon needed to do that, not to mention the skill, was beyond what most people could achieve in their lifetimes. Forget training day in and day out, if someone were to tell him that this girl was born with that weapon in hand and hadn't let it go since, he'd almost believe it.

It really put into perspective how little he had used _Luminosité Éternelle _up until now.

He wouldn't be deterred.

Before he could go on the offensive once again, he was forced to dodge a flurry of stabs. He was barely fast enough to catch her shield with the shaft of his weapon before it bashed into the side of his head.

He grunted. Getting the upper hand here would be difficult. Pyrrha Nikos was strong, talented, and skilled all without any apparent weaknesses.

"Ha," he exhaled sharply, pushing against the shield as hard as he could. The explosive force behind his shove threw Pyrrha a few paced backward.

He would have to show that he wasn't half bad himself.

"Shit," he yelped, rolling out of the way. The spot he had occupied was shrouded by a cloud of dust kicked up by the impact of high caliber bullets.

Pyrrha was on a knee near the farthest inbound. She had a rifle in hand, the barrel still smoking.

After their fight was finished, he'd have to ask her about that weapon of hers. A xiphos, a javelin, _and _a rifle? Who engineered that thing? It probably wasn't cheap, either, but only the best _for _the best, and all that.

A more troublesome thought came to him a moment later.

She had range; he didn't.

XX

In an uncharacteristic display of nervousness, Jacques Arc bit the side of his nail.

"He should've known better than to stray too far from his adversary. _Luminosité Éternelle _doesn't have any ranged functionalities."

His wife eyed him with a quirked brow. "Doesn't every huntsman and their _mother_ have a gun in their weapon?"

Cheeks flushed, he scratched his neck. "I mean, there was only so much we could ask of Senji…"

She sighed but didn't say anything else. A few of their children overheard them and snorted.

Jade, on the other hand, didn't notice their short bout at all. The entirety of her focus was on the two competitors.

Her brother was strong.

It was something she came to accept a long time ago, but she had never really _understood_. Not properly, at least. She heard that he got good grades at huntsman prep school, and she had seen him spar with their father on occasion, but that wasn't the same as seeing him go toe-to-toe with _Pyrrha Nikos._

The two of them were friends. At first, it was a fact that she had a little trouble wrapping her head around. After all, how did someone like _her _know someone like _him_?

As it would turn out, proven before her very eyes, someone like _him _wasn't all that far off from someone like _her_, and suddenly things didn't seem as strange anymore_. _Her unassuming brother, from their small little town of Orleans, was a match for the greatest tournament fighter of this generation.

Jaune was incredible.

They were so far away, but she could still see every clash in abundant detail. Every swing and parry was a work of art onto its own; when one delivered a strike so masterful that it _had _to land, the other would surprise her by countering in a way she'd never think imaginable.

Their dad would always complain about Jaune's fighting style around the house, saying that both he and Yang fought like a pair of muscle-brained brutes. How was that the case? This was a performance; a dance so intellectually demanding that it could've been choreographed.

Her starry-eyed gaze was unflinching. She'd remember this moment for many a day.

XX

For the umpteenth time, Jaune took a half-assed lunging strike at Pyrrha and hoped for the best. As with all of his previous attempts, he was thwarted, this time by a long hop step to the side. Just as easily, he batted away her own retaliatory swipe.

He frowned. This was going nowhere.

If either had lost any aura, it was merely the result of the feedback from clashing weapons running up their arms. Not a single blow had landed on either side.

Unlike with any other opponent, he couldn't simply hope to outlast her. If he slipped up, what then? He couldn't be anything less than at the top of his game if he wanted to make it through this.

A change of strategy, then.

The flag spear shortened, the waving cloth wrapping around itself in an intricate weave. Jaune adopted a firm-footed stance with his sword held steadily in one hand.

His planted feet were taken as an invitation for his opponent to go on the offensive. Pyrrha shuffled towards him with her spear held underarm and leading with her shield.

He steadied his breathing. This would only be fully effective once.

Jaune prepared to defend his vulnerable position– and vulnerable was surely what he was at the moment. Pyrrha had the advantage of both a bladed arm _and _a shield, whereas he only had the choice between a spear and a single-handed sword. The spear was favourable, as it allowed him to keep a safe distance while exposed.

Knowledgeable of the ways of combat as she was, the Invincible Girl had long since come to similar conclusions. She seized the opportunity and engaged him in close quarters with her xiphos.

A shield bash was her first move, which he blocked with his sole weapon. Her blade came swinging around to catch his exposed and defenseless side–

His aura flared, and caught it in the palm of his hand.

Her eyes widened, not expecting such an action. Taking full advantage of her seldom-seen lapse in control, Jaune extended _Luminosité Éternelle _back into a spear and made an effort to have the flag unfurl in her face to block her line of sight.

She was exposed. The spear went straight for the center of her chest–

And missed.

Once more, he slammed the side of her shield and pushed away to make some breathing room. His mind was running a mile a minute.

How? How did he miss?

Something felt… off about the blow. It wasn't so much that he lost control of his swing, more like control was taken from him.

Was it a semblance?

It could be. He would have to be more careful from now on.

XX

"Ah! Damn it, Jaune, how did you miss that!"

Were she anyone else, Yang would have ruffled her hair in frustration. As it was, she settled for waving a pair of fists over her head.

She, along with the other Signal students, had long since left their seats as the fight went on. Their emotions went on a rollercoaster of excitement, nervousness, and elation as their lock fought the best of the best to a stand-still.

Mistral's team, as close as they were, didn't even bother to express annoyance with her loud tone. They too were entranced by the intensity of the match.

"Wicked," mumbled Scarlet under his breath.

No one called him out on it.

XX

Jaune couldn't hit her.

Amusingly, it reminded him of a similar occasion many years ago. He'd reckon he was almost as frustrated about it now as he was then.

Still, the fact remained that he couldn't get anywhere as long as he couldn't land a blow. Her aura wouldn't hit fifteen percent otherwise.

He didn't think for a second that he could pull off a ring-out.

The issue hadn't changed. Whenever he managed to scrape together an opening, something messed with his form and he'd miss his strike by a mile. It had happened four or five times now.

Who would've thought that _both _of their semblances made it hell to get a shot in? This was going to take a while…

His thoughts were put on hold as he made a sharp lean away from a high-aiming thrust. He motioned to push the shaft to the side with his arm, but his eyes shot wide open when he wasn't able to do so. Unprepared as he was, the javelin caught him in the waist and he was forced to tumble onto the ground to minimize the damage of the attack.

This far into their fight, Pyrrha Nikos won first blood.

The fact didn't upset Jaune, for he had come to a realization.

He had a good idea of what her semblance might be. He would have to hope that he was right.

XX

Pyrrha's smile was ear-splitting as she finally hit her opponent, but then again, her smile had been set firmly in place since they started.

Jaune was strong.

It made her happy to know that. She always had expectations –strong ones, at that– but to finally fight him here confirmed all of it for her and _more_.

He understood her, she felt. With every strike that resonated against _Akoúo̱_'s metal carapace, the shield served its namesake and _listened_. She could _hear_ how much he wanted to _win_. He wasn't fighting an "invincible girl", but Pyrrha Nikos.

How long had it been since someone had _actually _tried to beat her? Who had ever _thought _they could beat her?

That's right. This match wasn't about the final outcome. It was about Pyrrha Nikos and Jaune Arc.

And she would win, because that's how much was at stake; all that _needed _to be at stake.

She didn't know how his semblance allowed him to avoid damage from her blows for so long, but the point was now moot. He hadn't figured out how she had been using her own semblance through each exchange, either.

Strangely, the use of her semblance thus far had filled her with a sense of elation rather than the usual bitterness. Since her earliest days as a professional fighter, she had thought of her near limitless control over her opposition's equipment to be an unfair advantage, so she used it sparingly. As time went on, however, misuse turned into spite as every manipulation felt as though she had slighted the image of "the Invincible Girl".

That wasn't the case here, though.

She would use _Polarity_ because it was the semblance belonging to Pyrrha Nikos, and Pyrrha Nikos needed _Polarity_ to defeat Jaune Arc.

His flag spear came swinging down against _Miló_. Again, she lightened the load of the attack with her semblance before meeting it with her own weapon. Jaune was a beast, physically. The strength required of her were she to catch his weapon against hers directly would exhaust her aura.

_What?_

Unexpectedly, there was none of the usual strength behind the swing. Jaune had let go of his weapon.

A naked fist came barreling into her chin before she could think. It was a testament to her own abilities that she was able to follow the directional force of the strike with her body. As it was, she simply lost a good chunk of her aura rather than knocked right out by the angle of punch.

Something he picked up from his blonde friend, most likely.

Pyrrha didn't bother to question how he managed to remove his gauntlets and vambraces without her noticing. Despite what she told him earlier about not speaking, she did ask, "How did you find out?"

Panting, much like she was, Jaune offered, "When you stopped me from blocking your attack earlier, it was only my _armour _that you froze. I could feel the forward momentum of my arm pushing against the walls of my gauntlet."

"Risky assumption, wouldn't you say?"

Regardless, he was right.

"I'm not going to beat you if I'm not willing to take risks," he shot back cheekily.

"I suppose you're right," she relented with a quirk in her lip.

Jaune reached into his collier and pushed a tab. Suddenly, all of his armor fell to his feet. After putting his headpiece down gently –delicately– on the ground, he was left only with his shirt, pants, and boots.

XX

Taiyang blinked as he tried to wipe away the dust in his eye that made it look as though his student had thrown away his only protection after doing so well until now.

He didn't actually just do that, did he?

Next to him, his youngest daughter had a similar reaction.

"Hey, dad?"

"Yes?"

"Is Jaune alright in the head?"

"…"

XX

"WHAAAT THE SHIT!" Yang shrieked. She really was pulling at her hair this time. "Dumbass! Idiot! He had it in the bag! Why did he have to go full stupid mode on us _now_?"

Sanctum's team seemed just as confused as they were.

"…"

Zhang's eyes narrowed.

"Jaune knows something we don't."

His blonde upperclassman stopped ranting for a moment. "Hm?"

He blushed, noticing that he had the attention of both teams, but explained, "Jaune isn't stupid, and he wants to win this more than anyone. If he did something like that, it's because he thinks it'll give him the upper hand, somehow."

XX

Both Coco and Mocha stared at Jaune with unimpressed, lidded eyes.

"He's an idiot."

"A moron."

"Imbecile."

"A complete ninny."

"I've seen birds with more between their ears."

The pair's parents sweatdropped at their children's remarks.

XX

Jacques tuned out the nagging of his daughters asking him what Jaune was thinking. His eyes were planted on his son.

_What are you planning, I wonder?_

XX

The redhead tilted her head, not understanding what he thought he was going to accomplish.

"You don't think you can beat me unarmed, do you?"

Jaune took a breath.

Another.

_Another._

Aura flowed through him; _around _him.

Pyrrha took a step back. She didn't know what he was doing, but she could tell that _something _was going on.

"Please, stand still," he asked her jokingly, not actually expecting any form of compliance. "I won't be able to keep this up for long."

Their next clash was unlike any of their previous ones, and yet was similar in outcome. Pyrrha's weapon thundered down on his body, but somehow his frame stood unyielding. Due to his inexperience in hand-to-hand combat, however, neither could manage to get the upper hand.

Jaune grunted. This wasn't how his semblance was meant to be used, especially considering he wasn't using it with _Luminosité Éternelle. _If he wanted to win, though, he'd have to tough it out.

His discomfort must have been visible on his face, because Pyrrha kicked it into second gear. Her weapon, a xiphos once more, tore into him in a flurry of slashes.

Jaune didn't brush off the blows so much as ignore them. He could feel his limits approaching as he pressed forward to grapple the redhead.

There was nothing she could do. All the skill in the world wouldn't help her move the immovable.

For that's what he was now: a human fortress. A defender.

The moment he had a grip on her, the advantage was held by him. Her blade couldn't help her. Her Shield couldn't help her.

He slammed her into the ground, and the earth cratered. What was once a flat arena was now a giant bowl. No one needed an aura gauge to know how that a good portion of hers was gone.

Though not enough, evidently. The match wasn't called yet.

"Hah!" Jaune screamed as he brought his fist up for one final blow against his downed opponent.

Her eyes glowed, and–

It happened before he could react. No… there was no way he could have anticipated something like this happening in the first place.

_Luminosité Éternelle _somehow pulled itself from where it rested on the other end of the arena and _flew _into him at frightening speeds, sending him tumbling off of the girl he had pinned.

He tried to get back, but his path was blocked. Her weapon, her shield, _his _weapon, as well as all the pieces of his discarded armour set formed a moving, flurrying wall that held him at bay.

_No!_

Had she figured it out?

The Arc semblance, _Absolute Protection_, varied greatly between members of the household. Despite this, it had just as many constants as it had variations. One of those constants was the continuous drain placed on one's aura reserves to keep it running.

Considering the wasteful way he'd been forced to use it, his aura reserves were dangerously low. He couldn't just drop it and save what little he had, either, since the puppeteered weapons that were currently prodding him would quickly take away what he had left.

He didn't have much longer.

Relying on physical strength, he tried to force his way through the impromptu wall of metal. Through the cracks, he could see Pyrrha visibly struggling to hold him at bay. Her entire body was trembling.

In the end, their fight had been reduced to who's semblance could endure the longest.

_"Jaune Arc's aura is in the red! Victory goes to Pyrrha Nikos! Mistral's representatives will move on to the next round!"_

There was a dead silence that reigned for what seemed like an eternity. No one knew what had just happened. There was no way for them to have understood the final moments of the match between Jaune Arc and Pyrrha Nikos.

The coveted Invincible Girl didn't seem so invincible anymore. She had trouble standing on her feet, and anyone close enough could see her flushed complexion and laboured breathing.

The one she had bested was in a very similar condition, though he was on his hands and knees.

Both were still. Their tired, lidded eyes did a poor job of conveying how either was feeling.

"HAAAAA!" shouted Pyrrha at the top of her lungs, cutting right through the dead quiet of the onlookers. She fell onto her back with a dorky smile, and let her eyelids drop.

The crowd followed. Hundreds of thousands of people watching –millions viewing across the four kingdoms– shouted along with her.

Jaune didn't hear any of it. There was a strange ringing in his ear that he could quite place.

He rolled onto his back and stared blankly at the sky.

So he lost, then.

Obviously, it was always a possibility, but that didn't pave any roads for him to recover from the bitterness he felt.

He lost.

_He lost._

His nose twitched, then his brow.

_I'm sorry, Jeanne._

Tears. There were tears trailing down his cheeks. He hadn't cried since _that time._

If Jeanne were to see him know, she'd tell him to get over himself. Hell, his dad would probably say the same thing. Despite the promises he made to them of his own volition, he knew he was being overly dramatic.

He _knew_ that, but still–

"Jaune."

It was soft; weak, but it cut through the noise. With what little strength that he had left, he turned his head towards Pyrrha.

He almost chuckled. She was in pretty bad shape too, huh?

The noise was caught in his throat though. He couldn't take his eyes off her smile.

Happiness. Gratitude. Respect.

"You're the best," she told him.

The bitterness was chipped away by something else.


	10. But that's fine too, every now and then

(A/N) Lmao I had some of y'all cheesed last chapter huh. I should do that more often if it doubles my review count every time.

Just jokes.

All in all, I'm pleased with the feedback. It was the first chapter since the first that had any sort of great importance to future events, so I'm glad it went the way that it did.

I won't bother going on about why things went the way they did though. I'll assume that people understand why I had Jaune lose from a narrative perspective. Neutered characters, prematurely resolved plot elements, so on so forth. That said, I'm not trying to dismiss anyone either, so feel free to PM me if you want more details.

But beyond that, I've had a lot of people comment that they're frustrated that Jaune "loses all the time", and that's ringing some alarm bells for me. If someone could clear that up, that would be great, since to my knowledge this is quite literally the first time I've had Jaune fight someone seriously. Are we talking about kid Jaune here? Like when he was learning the sparring rules and stepped out of bounds or something?

Aaaanyway. Winddown chapter delivered (a little on the late side, sorry bout that). Don't expect the following to be the only presented results and consequences of the fight, however. There's a lot more that hasn't been covered in this chapter alone, and some that won't be found out until much (*breathes in* much) later.

Other than that, I was bored and wrote the first bit of the FGO story I proposed. Not sure if I'll post it soon, but not sure if that matters either. I think Parcasious beat me to it about *checks time* two hours ago. Then again, that's not to say that we'd be taking it in the same direction, so hey. There's that. I doubt many Fate stories start with a Jojo's reference anyway.

Please enjoy!

XX

Dorothy stared at Morado for a moment, waiting for him to speak up. When it was clear that nothing would be said, she decided to take the first word.

An amused snort. "Well then, Mory. It looks like I owe Jaune Arc an apology."

Morado smiled. Evidently, he knew this was coming. "Do you, now?"

Dorothy pointed to a graphic up on their display board. It showed the remaining auras of both Jaune Arc and Pyrrha Nikos, side by side, at different minute marks.

At the final minute, the levels were scored at seventeen to fifteen.

"As sure as I was that Nikos would win," she had to slip in, "the fact that it was this close to–"

"If they fought again, I think he'd win."

"Winning… excuse me?" trailed off Dorothy, lifting her eyebrow exaggeratedly to demonstrate a significant portion of her disbelief. "I know you didn't just insinuate that Jaune Arc could pull that off twice– he didn't even pull it off once! He got close, but that's all that was."

Mory rolled his eyes. "Weren't you just about to amend your opinion of him? I'll say it again: I think Jaune Arc would win if he fought Pyrrha Nikos a second time."

She barked, more than laughed. "You're crazy! Look, it was an admirable effort, but even if he got closer than anyone else, ever, he still needed every star in the sky to align for him to even get that far."

"Come, now. You're trying to say he got lucky?"

"Of course."

"If anything, Nikos got lucky."

Dorothy blinked emptily. "You've gone crazy."

"I'm serious!" he smiled, similarly to how an adult would towards a small child. "Look. What was the difference between their aura levels?"

"Two percent."

"Exactly! Two percent. They were evenly matched–"

"Arguable."

"–from beginning to end," he continued without paying mind to the interruption. "What it came down to was who ran out of gas first. Why did Nikos come out on top? Because Arc was caught off guard by her semblance, that's why."

"Everyone was caught off guard by her semblance. No one has ever seen it before!"

"Exactly!" he shouted back with matched enthusiasm, though Dorothy's was lost the moment she realized that she had unwittingly supported his argument. "A semblance that she had evidently never felt the need to use before now. We don't even know what is it yet –though we can speculate it's some sort of powerful telekinesis– but Arc matched it blow for blow. Now that he expects it–"

"You could argue that Arc's semblance is an equal unknown."

"Oh come on. He's from Vales coveted and very much known Arc family. They practically all have the same semblance."

"We don't know that."

"More than we know about Nikos' at least."

"I think you're just trying to cheer for the underdog, here."

"I think you're just–"

XX

Jaune sighed and turned off his scroll once the broadcasters' conversation devolved into a seemingly recurring state of argument. Were all analyst segments like this?

He rolled over in his bed despite the time. He didn't feel like doing much today.

"Jaune!"

It was Garnet calling him from the suite's main living space. He chose to ignore it.

"Jaune, come here!"

…

"I know you can hear me, fuckwit!"

"Garnet!" was his mother's quick snap.

Sigh.

"Coming," he drawled, pulling himself out from under the sheets.

He sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, not moving. He just stared emptily at the closed bedroom door.

He felt unwell.

Not sick, just unwell. No matter how much fun he had yesterday –and it was fun– it still stung to lose the way he had.

He was close, but he didn't find out how close until after the fact. He had to choke down a miffed scoff when Mr. Tai showed him the score sheet.

The worst part is that he was the only one that seemed upset.

His parents congratulated him. Mr. Tai promised to take them all out for dinner tonight for doing so well.

No one expected them to get this far, after all.

Screw that! He expected it. More than that, he expected to actually win.

But he didn't.

He sighed again. Taking a deep breath, he put on a smile.

It would be for his own benefit as much as his family's.

"Coming!" he finally replied.

Regardless, the was a lot of good that came out of it. No matter the end result, he gave it his all and he knew that Pyrrha did the same.

If nothing else, there was that.

Surprisingly, it wasn't six sisters and two parents that he found once he entered the living space. It was six sisters, two parents, and a pair of familiar redheaded women.

"Pyrrha. Thetis. What are you doing here?"

It was a question born from genuine curiosity on his part. Wasn't the final round today? She should be getting ready for her team's match.

"I wanted to thank you for the good fight," the younger one told him. "You were an excellent adversary, and I was hoping that–"

"Don't think that you're gonna win again next time," he told her challengingly before he could properly filter his thoughts.

His sisters hissed at him with varying degrees of scathing remarks. That wasn't how you talked to someone that was trying to be nice, was it?

The rest of what she was going to say was lost. Her eyes widened, and her lips formed a small "o" shape.

Thetis muffled a laugh with her fist.

Pyrrha was able to school her expression soon after. She smiled brightly at him. "Won't I?"

He was about to fire back, but then he remembered to feel embarrassed for acting out like that in the first place. His cheeks reddened. "Erm… sorry. I interrupted you."

Thetis laughed out loud while her daughter shook her head gently.

"No, never mind that. I already have my answer."

…Strange.

"You'll come to watch the final round, won't you?" asked her mother.

He nodded with an eased expression. "Of course."

It was only fair. She beat him, so he owed her at least that much.

XX

The Keii Colosseum was just as packed as it was yesterday, if not more so. Considering there would only be one matchup as opposed to the pair that took place before, that was saying a lot.

Atlas had beaten Vacuo handily, but that was to be expected. Despite their talents, Vacuo didn't have anyone to match the likes of Ciel Soleil, who was supposedly so strong that she'd be elected first overall unanimously were it not for the fact that Pyrrha Nikos was from the same graduating year class.

Not that he actually bore witness to it, since Vale's team left after the loss earlier that day.

The spectators seated all around him jumped to their feet in joy when Arslan Altan defeated her opponent, splitting the score at one to one, while others groaned in disappointment.

It was a strange experience, sitting in the stands. People had different favourites, since the outcome didn't really have anything to do with them.

It was strange again to know that he would be cheering for the very team that beat him.

It wouldn't do for Mistral to boot them from the tournament and not win it all.

To his left, his parents clapped politely with smiles on their faces, while his sisters to his right had reactions ranging from something similar to his parents, all the way to "I get to see the Invincible Girl fight the finals lock match! Cool!"

He could admit that it was a fair point of interest. It would suck if Pyrrha wasn't given the opportunity to win it all because her teammates lost two-oh.

"As Mistral's Sanctum Academy has forced a lock match, both competing teams are asked to prepare for the final fight of the tournament!"

The announcement that came from the loudspeaker threatened to deafen him. While he could barely hear them from the competitor's box, he was now sitting right underneath the sound system–albeit at a good few meters below it.

Just as it was the other day, the crowd's cheers seemed to magnify when Pyrrha came out from the box. It was made all the more apparent to him now that he was part of that crowd. There were raised hands and stomping feet, and the arena itself was so large that he couldn't even make out the features of those on the opposite end of the colosseum.

He took a moment to wonder if his friends and teammates were somewhere here too.

Probably not, he reasoned. They were probably sore over the way things ended for them. Were it any other circumstance, he would probably call it in too.

"Begin!"

Though they had good seats, it was still hard to see the fighters from so far away. Luckily, there were many screens all around them with live broadcasts, chief among them the enormous, four-sided jumbotron that seemed to hover some twenty meters above the middle of the ring.

Down on the floor, the clashing of metal would resonate through your body. At such a distance, it sounded more like a nail poking the side of a tin can– and that was only when it could be heard at all through the ambient noise.

And yet, he still watched with rapt interest.

Less than a minute in, Pyrrha was doing well.

So to say, her opponent wasn't.

The champion's aura level sat comfortably and a slowly-declining ninety-eight percent, while Ciel Soleil had already dropped below the eighty mark, now at seventy-nine percent. Ciel Soleil hadn't even landed a blow yet, so the two percent that Pyrrha had lost was likely a matter of aura loss from physical exertion.

No one seemed even remotely surprised by the fact. Was it expected that Pyrrha Nikos would win every fight easily? Was it expected that Ciel Soleil, for however highly the public thought of her, wouldn't even have an inkling of a chance?

If that were true, it really started to put into perspective how strong the "Invincible Girl" was supposed to be in comparison to everyone else. It would've made him feel better about his own loss were it not such a depressing way of thinking.

How could someone do that? Just assume that no matter what you do, it wouldn't change a damn thing.

If he thought that way, then there wouldn't have been a point in him trying to be a huntsman in the first place.

He shook off his derailed thoughts and brought his focus back to the match.

Forty-four to ninety-six now. The digitized and expanded views of Soleil's contorted expressions showed that she had more than likely fallen into the same dangerous line of thinking. For all that he felt bad for the girl, he almost felt worse for Pyrrha for having to deal with that on a regular basis.

Suddenly, her evident enjoyment of their previous bout shone differently under a new light. He could sympathize, definitely, but it wasn't in his ability to empathize.

Who could, really? It was an extraordinary case for an extraordinary person.

"It's over! Ciel Soleil's aura has hit the red! Mistral wins it all!"

The announcer couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice. As much as Sanctum Academy seemed to be a superpower this year, it was easy to forget that Atlas had won this tournament year after year for the longest time.

Mistral had broken that streak, and brought it home on their own soil.

The stands turned into a mess, but it was a happy mess. Drinks were spilling, and people were smiling from ear to ear.

Jaune's expression was much the same, though it was more wry than happy. His gaze was fixed on the graphic aura display.

Thirteen to ninety-three.

"A little anticlimactic, wouldn't you say?" asked the newly crowned champion's mother.

"A little," he admitted with a shy laugh.

"You would have made a much better matchup today. More entertaining."

The woman's words were harsh. She evidently had little sympathy for the enemy.

"I'm sure Ciel Soleil gave it everything she had," he defended more out of impulse than anything. Despite this, his cheeks reddened from embarrassment as he scratched the back of his head. He never liked to put others down, but it was a flattering comment nonetheless.

In what was a recurring theme, she laughed at him.

"Anyway, Jaune, I'm glad you could all come today." She looked every member of the Arc family in the eye when she said it. "I'll be heading out now, though. Pyrrha's going to be put through a whole arrangement of interviews, and I want to be there for her. I'll be hard for me to get to her once the festivities start?"

"Festivities?" Jade inquired from a few seats down.

The elder Nikos nodded. "Expect street parties for the rest of the night. Maybe even a parade in the morning. This is a big deal for the people here."

She took off with a parting wave, and the Arc family was left to navigate its way out of the building amid countless ecstatic Mistralians.

XX

As they approached the exit, Jaune caught sight of a very recognizable girl standing still as others passed her by.

He excused himself from his family and ran up to her.

"Hey," he greeted.

Ciel Soleil stared him down, nonplussed. "Come to gloat, Jaune Arc? I can't see why you would, since you lost, same as me."

He shook his head. "It was a good fight."

"I don't want your pity either."

"Where's everyone else from Atlas?" he asked, completely ignoring her.

"Back at the hotel, most likely. Our flight is later this evening, so we must pack quickly."

He blinked. "So soon? You're not going to stick around for a while?"

Not that he would be, either. His family was flying back tomorrow night.

"What for?"

"There are plenty of sights to see in Mistral. It's a great place."

"Our business is done here, so we're returning," she replied curtly.

He shivered. As of this moment, Jaune was happy that he didn't go to school in Atlas. Frigid lot, they were.

"I'll leave you to that, then," he told her with a disarming smile. "I hope I get to fight you next time."

He extended his hand, and unsurprisingly, she scoffed at the gesture.

Despite that, she clasped his palm with her own and shook it once. It was cold, just like the rest of her.

She walked off without a word. His smile didn't budge.

He was glad that she appreciated the pep talk.

XX

It was a few hours later that Jaune found himself navigating through legions of celebrating locals and visitors alike as he tried to locate the address sent to him by email.

Mr. Tai had asked them to meet at a restaurant called "The Wallflower", though there was much doubt that anyone could have predicted the severity of the foot traffic on the way. He had been circling the same city block for the past five minutes, but he couldn't find–

Never mind. There it was.

The glowing neon sign was shaped in a very stylized cursive, which was probably why he didn't see it until now. As far as first impressions went, it looked like a really fancy type of place. He was equal parts regretful that he showed up in sweats and incredulous that Mr. Tai of all people would willingly come here.

It kind of clashed with his image of the man, to be honest. Was this really a meal he could afford to cover for half a dozen people?

His worries eased a little once he stepped inside. It was no mom and pop diner, to be sure, but it wasn't a five-star either. There were families at booths, and plenty of open laughs and discourse. It was a little packed, but that was to be expected considering circumstances.

The choice made a little more sense now. It still gave the impression of "celebration meal" while looking like somewhere their teacher could stomach.

"Over here!" a voice called. He caught sight of an arm waving animatedly at him from a long table further out.

It was Ruby. She was flanked by her father and sister, while his other teammates faced them. Mocha sat at the head, but she was more focused on the menu than on him.

He was the last one here, he realized much to his embarrassment.

He waved back with nearly equal vigour and placed himself at the open seat facing Mocha. Their greetings were short, but amicable.

"J-Jaune! You knew about Pyrrha's semblance, right? That's why you took your armour off?"

It was Zhang that started the conversation, however timidly. Evidently, it was a question he had been wanting to ask for a while since it wasn't usual for him to do so.

Jaune nodded. "I knew something wasn't right, so I got rid of it before she could use it against me."

"But you didn't think about how she could use it against you after you took it off?" asked Mocha flatly.

The blond-haired boy scratched his cheek sheepishly. "I didn't think it would be that strong, to be honest."

The brunette sighed. "That's fair, I suppose. Say… what's her semblance, actually? No one actually knows since she's never used it openly like that before."

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, "but I'm not positive myself. I had a feeling it had something to do with my armour, but beyond that… I guess you know how that ended up, huh?"

"Nah, it couldn't be helped," Ruby defended. "Her semblance is way overpowered, anyway. It's awesome that you were so close though!"

His smile thinned the tiniest amount.

"Hm! Mhm!" Amethyst was quick to agree with a pumped fist. "You were seriously incredible out there. I can't imagine anyone winning against that force of nature."

Taka added her two cents. "Yeah! I'll try my best to be as great as you when I become a sixth-year."

Taiyang leaned forward and patted him on the back. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, Jaune. There aren't many people who would be able to pull off what you just did.

The sudden and loud sound of a chair scraping against hardwood cut them off. Yang rubbed her neck awkwardly and walked away.

"Takin' a breather," she offered uselessly.

Silence.

"What was that about?" Ruby asked.

Mocha shrugged.

"I'll go check on her," Jaune offered with a hint of worry in his voice. Was there something on her mind?

XX

He found her not long after, not that it was difficult to do so. She was outside, leaning against the brick wall of the restaurant. The street-goers had to walk around her.

"Yang?"

She didn't answer, so he got closer.

"Can you leave me alone for a bit?" she asked with an apologetic smile, pushing him away once he got in arms reach.

His eyebrows curled in worry. "You can talk to me, you know?"

"Mhm."

"What's wrong?"

"Take a hint, big guy."

"I'm just trying to–"

"Quit it!" she shot back, just short of a yell. She shoved him back with both hands. "I'm fuckin' pissed at you, dude! Just…"

He was frozen still.

"…Ugh. Look. It's stupid, and that's why I wasn't going to say anything. It's not even about you… I mean it is, but–"

She was rambling, probably trying to talk herself out of something. It wasn't working, because she just seemed to get more agitated.

"Is there something I can do?" asked her fellow blonde, ever the king of hint-taking.

"No!" she all but screamed. Passerby gave them a wide berth. "You screwed to pooch, jackass! Everyone's acting like it's no big deal, and so I'm stuck here feeling like a complete and utter bitch because I wanted to fuckin' win!"

She kicked the brick wall next to her in frustration. Evidently, she had been holding it in for a while.

"…So it's about the–"

"Yes, it's about the fucking fight!"

She never had the cleanest tongue, but for her to be swearing like a sailor meant that she was pretty upset.

"We all worked so hard…" she said in a much softer tone. "I did, the others did, you did too! And we're going to pretend that it was supposed to happen this way? Damnit Jaune, you were supposed to win!"

He stared at her, slack-jawed.

The extended moment of silence allowed her to recollect some of her bearings. She sighed and dropped her face into her hands.

"Look. I'm sorry ok?" she told him, her voice muffled. "You don't deserve to be yelled at like that. I'm being a shitty–"

"You think I could've won?"

She didn't answer him at first. Her face stayed down in her palms. Eventually, her tense shoulders dropped into a slump and her fingers ran down her cheeks.

"I was counting on it. What part of 'I'm pissed that you didn't win' do you not understand?"

Despite her miffed expression. Yang felt terrible. She was tearing into her friend viciously because she didn't have any other outlet. Was it his fault? More hers since she was letting it bother her. Did she blame him? Evidently so. Did he deserve any of this? Absolutely not.

He gave it his best.

And yet, it sounded so hollow to say that now.

He probably thought terribly of her now. Maybe she could make it up to him if–

She stiffened like an ice tray in a freezer.

"Wha… wha… wha…" she tried to speak, but all that came out were babbles.

Both of Jaune's arms were wound tightly around her.

"Thanks for believing in me Yang. I won't let you down again."

Every part of her wanted to struggle against the hold. To wriggle, to push away. To do something. Her body wouldn't move.

There would be steam coming out of her ears if her face got any hotter.

"Come. Let's go in," he urged her happily. Why was he happy again?

She wasn't of the frame of mind to tell him that she was still mad.

Dinner time it was, then.

XX

The Arc family got out of the limousine once it came to a stop in front of the airport. Luckily, Jaune remembered to let the driver do his job this time.

He stretched his legs with a satisfied groan. They were stuck in that thing for close to two hours.

Why was it so far away again?

"Gross. Keep your moans to yourself," mocked one of his sisters. He brushed it off with a roll of his eyes.

A tap on the shoulder had him turning around. He matched the person's smile with one of his own.

"You two didn't have to come all the way here."

"I wanted to get away for a bit," Pyrrha told him.

He laughed. "Paparazzi still after you?"

"When are they not?" she joked.

"Touché."

Neither spoke for a moment. They were alone, as his family had already gone ahead and Thetis seemed content to wait in the car.

"It was nice, seeing you again," he admitted. For reasons he couldn't place, it was difficult to meet her eyes.

The newly-crowned combat school tournament champion giggled into her fist. "It was. Your family is very pleasant. It was a joy to meet them."

"The Vital Festival will be this year, right?" He nodded to himself. "Then that's it. I'll see you soon, Pyrrha. Get ready for our rematch!"

She didn't answer, but her smile was still glowing.

The limousine door opened, and Thetis stalked their way.

"Miss Thetis–"

She pulled him into a hug, catching him off guard. "We said our goodbyes in the car, I know, but we'll miss you kid."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Thank you again."

She laughed and pushed him away. "What for, silly boy."

He took a step back and bowed with his hands intertwined at his waist. "Until next time, then!"

Jaune turned and left to join his family. Thetis and her daughter stood at the airport entrance for a moment longer.

"Hey, mom?"

"Hm?"

"I think… I think I'll want to have my rematch a little sooner. Do you think that'll be alright with dad?"

There was an amused twitch in the older woman's lips. "I don't see why not."

She was only joking about her daughter being whisked away, but this was fine too.

XX

Slurp.

Glynda Goodwitch's brow twitched furiously.

Slurp.

"…"

Slurp.

"Would you mind, Headmaster?" she ground out through clenched teeth.

"Hm?"

Slurp.

She didn't have time to give him a piece of her mind. The conference call was starting.

The call itself wasn't anything special– merely an online group meeting between the four headmasters of the lead huntsman academies across the kingdoms. They were regular, almost like an extended faculty meeting.

However, the subject matter at hand was somewhat important. It was something they would only discuss once a year, and it would impact the future of numerous youths.

Three other faces appeared on the screen.

Professor Ironwood, of Atlas Academy.

Professor Lionheart, of Haven Academy.

Professor Theodore, of Shade Academy.

"Shall we begin then?" asked Ozpin, putting down his coffee mug. On his desk was a stack of papers with a single sticky note on the top to properly label it.

It read, "Scouting reports."

"Let us establish this year's standings."


	11. AN

(A/N) Please excuse me while I rant for a second.

***rant start***

Are we really still talking about the Pyrrha fight?

I'm honestly baffled. I cannot begin to understand why it's such a sore topic for some of the readers. It's getting _way _too much attention for something used as a character introduction arc. If people were getting mad at how the fight itself was written it would be a different matter. "It's too short!" or "So-and-so was a deus ex machina!"

Nah. It's "Jaune lost."

_Who gives a flying fuck_.

A lot of reviews are arguing that the outcome of the fight weakens the integrity of the characters' development, such as Pyrrha not being anything more than the "invincible girl" or Jaune not being able to move on from Jeanne's death.

Uh, yeah? That's the point. They weren't supposed to. _Other __stuff _happened, yes, but completely resolving their primary character conflicts was never part of the plan.

I've taken it upon myself to make sure that Pyrrha doesn't end up like she did in RWBY. One of my _biggest _issues with RWBY is how Rooster Teeth handled her character. _Not only _is she nothing more than "the invincible girl", she's not even that at the end of volume 3. They took away her one defining feature without giving her anything else to keep her head above water. And for what, to show how strong the Maiden's powers are? Power levels in general went to shit after that.

If Jaune won that fight (a fight he had no business winning, to begin with, mind you) then I would have stolen Pyrrha's only defining feature before I could build her character _beyond _that. After the instant gratification of Jaune winning, I would have lost my chance to extend her beyond what she is and no one would give a rat's ass about Pyrrha again. **I can't let that happen because I need her as a recurring character for the rest of this fucking story, **so you might as well enjoy her while she's here.

There you go. I _genuinely _wanted to keep this to myself, because I went out of my way to make the fight sound like it was a tossup that could have gone either way despite knowing that half my plans for the future of this story would implode if Jaune won.

***rant end***

Sorry bout that lol. All that said, I appreciate my readers, and all the reviews y'all leave for me (even the ones that make me want to pull my hair out sometimes) because it lets me know that people care about this lil thing I've written.

I'm not trying to say, "Don't give me bad reviews!" *angry face*

I enjoy reading criticisms just as much as words of encouragement. My field of study is like 90% learning how to use criticisms in a positive manner. Please continue to question what I do, and I'll do my best to use your words to improve myself as an author.

My frustration here is purely over how drawn-out such an insignificant matter has become.

**MOVING ON,** I'd like to get some words in concerning the future of this story, as well as the coming chapters. I make my distaste for the direction RWBY is taking no secret, and as such I will pretend that nothing after volume 3 exists other than some Lore and characters.

As for the coming chapters, welcome to initiation, fellas. I thought RWBY's initiation was kinda cute when I saw it the first time, but I'm sick of it and it wouldn't suit this story at all. Initiation is different.

**This author's note will precede the chapter by a few days (assuming that I'm not being too ambitious). I would have posted it attached to the top of the chap like I usually do, but it's a little long and I didn't want it getting in the way of actual content. That, and there are fewer chances of readers skipping it over this way.**


	12. Nice to Meet You Maybe

(A/N) Alright, I'll keep this as short as I can.

First, I'd like to apologize. If not for what I said, then at least for how I said it. Losing my cool isn't something that I do, and it's very unlikely that it'll happen again.

You know what? Imma go back on basically everything I said during the last A/N. If you wanna roast the shit outta something, well-reasoned or not, I fully invite you to do so. Everyone reading this is just as much a member of this community as I am, and it is your right to feel any way you want about what you read. It's an open platform, and I don't moderate reviews for that reason.

The previous A/N came about because of a bunch of coinciding events, many of them not even related to the story itself. A small (very small) part came from knowing that _this _chapter was where I was expecting the backlash in accordance to the fight, not after the fight itself (which is still the case). In fact, feel free to rip me a new one after reading. You'll know what I'm talking about real quick. _I'm _satisfied with how I progressed things, but that doesn't mean that you have to be.

(If it's any consolation, I had this planned before I finished writing the fight.)

Thank you to everyone who enjoys this story, regardless of how you chose to express your feelings towards it. I love y'all.

**On a related note, I'm contemplating rewriting the first chapter of the story. I realize that a lot of the character interaction there feels artificial, and I'll aim to fix that in a way that doesn't disrupt continuity.**

That's all! Thanks again for reading, and please enjoy!

XX

"Hello everyone, this is Dory, I'm Mory, and you're watching Mistral Live, with Dorothy and Morado."

"Let's get right to the meat and potatoes, Mory," Dorothy suggested. "There is no doubt about what's on everyone's mind right now."

Morado nodded. "Indeed, Dory. Here's the official draft standings, as published this morning by Remnant's four huntsman academies."

Their digital display behind them transitioned from their logo to a stylized one-through-ten ranking of the year's top huntsman prospects, along with the respective academies that the top ten had committed to.

Dorothy laughed, the gesture more incredulous than amused. "Where do we start? There's so much going on in one picture that _I _can barely wrap my head around it."

Morado nodded. "I feel that. If you showed this to someone before the tournament, they would've thought it was a joke."

His co-host scoffed. "And it doesn't sound like one _now?_"

He rolled his eyes. "Here we go."

"Don't get me wrong, no one –least of all me– was surprised to hear that Nikos was retiring from competitive fighting," Dorothy continued. "She all but confirmed it when she withdrew from the MRT to participate in the World Tournament. That said, for it to happen like _this_? I have to admit that I didn't put as much stock in the rumours as you did."

Morado quirked a brow. "I'm surprised that's the bit you're focused on."

XX

Most older students of Vale's Beacon Academy would say that they had a good grasp of their headmaster's character. If ever they were asked the question, "What do you think Professor Ozpin is doing right now?" they would answer "Hiding from Professor Goodwitch and drinking coffee in his office" nine times out of ten.

This was because the headmaster was very careful about how he portrayed himself. He was a man of many secrets, after all, and a good portion of his students were very curious by nature. It was necessary to make the children feel as though they had him "all figured out" so that they didn't feel inclined to poke their nose where it didn't belong in light of his "mysteriousness".

Of course, it was all a ruse.

It was mere coincidence that he was, at that moment, enjoying a pleasant brew while ignoring the messages that Glynda had left on his answering machine.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, his phone rang once more. He almost dismissed it but thankfully caught that the number wasn't Glynda's.

"James," he greeted.

_"Ozpin."_

"Is there something I can help you with, friend?"

_"I… didn't say anything during the meeting. I voted in favour of your selection because I trust your judgement, but I can't say that I understand it. I just can't wrap my head around what makes him so special in your eyes."_

Ah. He was wondering when the General would say something.

Ozpin knew what the man was talking about, of course. When the four headmasters assembled to finalize the ranking of the new year's drafted students, there was a fifty-fifty split in opinions on who would be at number one.

Usually, such things weren't an issue. It was very rare that a single prospect didn't set themselves apart from everyone else, and even when it _was _the case, the headmasters wouldn't mind which way the pendulum swayed.

This time, though…

"I saw potential, James. There's nothing more to it."

_"I would argue that there is, in fact, more to it," _countered the Atlesian. _"Theodore seemed to be of the same opinion, after all."_

Indeed, Professor Theodore shared the same vote as Ozpin, which completely baffled James and Leonardo since they thought that _their_ _own_ selection was the obvious one. James only deferred to Ozpin's judgement after it was clear that a tie-breaker would be needed.

"As someone born and raised in Vacuo, Theodore is a man who knows struggle; he knows what's important. For a huntsman, _skillset _is more valuable than skill itself. Besides, this _is _a school, isn't it? All else will come with time."

_"…So it's a matter of semblances– or families, rather."_

"It always is, unfortunately."

_"The media won't like this. Whatever the case may be, it would have been more prudent to go through with the results expected by the public. These rankings are nothing more than a platitude for the masses."_

Ozpin chuckled softly through the telephone line.

"Doing the 'expected' hasn't done much good in the past. I don't know why you'd think that would change now."

XX

"Jaune! A letter!"

His mother's call from downstairs snapped him out of his groggy state. Despite it already being close to eight in the morning, the jetlag from the return flight was still getting to him.

He rushed down the stairs. Jaune could hear the urgency in Isabelle's voice despite her efforts to sound calm.

There were no doubts as to what the letter would enclose.

He slowed to a stop once he arrived in the living room. His whole family –all six sisters included– were already there waiting for him.

His dad handed him the large, manila envelope silently, and he opened it with a shaky hand.

As the document came out, the first line became visible, on which was written "Letter of acceptance".

Jaune felt most of the tension leave him.

"I got in," he announced.

His family didn't share his relief.

"We knew that already, idiot!" Garnet shouted.

Of course.

To be honest, he didn't actually think that there would be a chance that he would be passed on either. He _knew _his worth as an aspiring huntsman.

The truth of the matter was that he was afraid of where he would land in the final standings. Since Signal was booted in the semifinals, there were fewer chances for the kingdoms' proctors to see the full scope of his ability. Seeing as how his only big-stage showing was a loss, well…

Forget first overall, would he even make the top ten?

The page moved up another inch, and a trickle of sweat rolled down his brow.

"Oh, just– give me that!"

Garnet snagged the envelope out of Jaune's hands, eliciting an undignified squawk from the boy. Her eyes shot back and forth as she read the mailed contents of the package.

Saphron frowned, realizing that her sister was keeping the message to herself. "Read it out loud, would you?"

It took the tomboy a moment to process the older girl's request. When she complied, her voice came out sounding dazed.

"Dear Mr. Arc… I am pleased to inform you that your first option, Vale's Beacon Academy, has accepted your application. You are invited, with distinct honours, to audition for a place in the class of the upcoming term," Garnet recited. With a gulp, she continued, "As selected by the community of our affiliated colleges, we are humbled to receive you as the first-ranked student of your draft class."

Garnet could barely finish the sentence before the rest of the Arc family went ballistic. Jaune's sisters practically tackled him, the only thing stopping him from falling being that they came at him from all directions.

Jaune himself was drawing a blank and was unable to process anything happening around him.

_How?_

That single word was all that was willing to pass through his mind. So baffled was he that he couldn't even begin to speculate what circumstances had led to this outcome.

First-ranked? As in first overall? How was that possible? Good fight or not, the reality was that Pyrrha had bested him in the first round of the international matches. Even disregarding that, she went on to win the whole thing. Unquestionably, she was the "MVP" of the whole tournament.

She was robbed. It was the truth, no matter how much he wanted this.

As always, the news got to him last. If he lived in the city, then he would've caught the national broadcast last night instead of waiting for Orleans' local stations to cover it.

Which they hadn't yet.

Jacques smirked, attempting to mask his own heavy emotions. "It's only right. He's an Arc, after all."

Isabelle approached her son and kissed him on the forehead. "We're _so _proud of you."

Garnet awkwardly interrupted the moment. "Ah…"

Once she had everyone's attention, she explained, "There's more, ya know."

To prove her point, she waved an attached bullhead flight ticket in front of her.

"For Beacon?" asked the Arc boy.

Instead of answering, she read the rest of the letter.

"As is the case for all applicants, you are being sent to one of four affiliated institutions –Atlas Academy, Beacon Academy, Haven Academy, Shade Academy– at random, where you will be expected to pass an initiation trial organized by the headmaster of the respective academies personally. As per community policy, all information on the time and destination of your departure will be found on the flight ticket enclosed with this message. For all further inquiries concerning travel restrictions, the loss of a ticket, or otherwise missing information, please contact your academy of enrolment at the following address…"

Garnet trailed off, now more interested in the ticket than reading out Beacon's provided contact information.

Jaune scratched the back of his head. He looked to his father, and asked, "Hold on… I got into Beacon, but I have to take some sort of test somewhere else?

The older man nodded. "It's a way for the Huntsman Academies to set a standardized bar for applicants. The academies used to hold initiation for their own students exclusively, but they found that their tests became too specialised over time. As a whole, the strengths and weaknesses of the student bodies became glaringly distinct from one academy to the next."

"This change was more about the group than the individual," added Isabelle. "Peer learning is a big part of the curriculum, and the truth is that it's easier for the _individual_ to improve when there's diversity in the _group_."

Jacques grunted amusedly. "Of course, it's expected that the kids with a lick of talent would be able to pass either way. Regardless, the reasons are there."

Garnet, who was still preoccupied with other matters, covered her mouth with a hand. "…Pfft."

Jaune frowned. "What's so funny?"

His sister shoved the ticket into his awaiting hand.

"Make sure to pack extra sunscreen."

He read the destination and time of departure printed on the ticket.

"…Shade Academy?"

XX

"You had me come out all the way to patch just to see _this_?"

Mocha stared at Yang's finished pet project with unimpressed eyes.

"Yes, you jerk!" Yang shot back. She rubbed the top of her newly-refurbished motorcycle affectionately. "She's beati– I mean she _will _be beautiful once I give her a smexy new paint job!"

"So it works now?" continued Mocha unapologetically.

Instead of answering, the blonde twisted the throttle.

VROOM!

"Eep!"

Mocha jumped back with a hand covering her chest, attempting to get her heart rate back under control.

The taller girl laughed. "Loud, isn't it?"

"I almost had a heart attack!"

"Hahahaha–ouch!"

The blonde received a punch in the arm for her antics.

Mocha huffed and turned away.

The easygoing smile on Yang's face dimmed.

"Hey… Mocha."

"Hm?"

"What's your… plan?" she cringed. "For after… you know…"

"For school?"

A nod.

The brunette placed her hands on her hip. Not feeling the same discomfort as her friend, she answered, "I'm going to Vale's School of Business. I got a scholarship and everything."

"So you're really not coming to Beacon, huh?" Yang's expression wasn't quite sad, but it definitely wasn't happy either. There was a tone of acceptance in her voice.

"Yeah."

Neither spoke for a moment.

Despite her disappointment, Yang always knew that Mocha wouldn't follow her to Beacon. She was never really a fighter, and for the longest time, she wondered why she went to Signal in the first place. It was one of those things she never really tried to pry into– not something altogether characteristic of her.

"How about you?" asked the Adel sibling. "You get a letter from Beacon yet?"

Yang took the change of subject well.

"Mhm. I got in, but they're sending me to Haven for initiation."

Mocha smirked. "I remember Coco complaining about that. They dropped her sorry butt off in Vacuo, and the sand ruined her suede boots."

Yang snorted. "Seriously? She must have been _pissed_!"

"Yeah, she was. I heard that her team took the brunt of her undeserved fury for _weeks _after she got back to Beacon."

The huntress-to-be hummed. "That's right… how are teams going to work? Everyone going to Beacon is gonna be split up, so whoever's in charge of that will have a tough time matchmaking."

Combing a strand of her loose bangs behind her ear, her companion answered, "They use some sort of grading system during initiation, according to Coco. Duos are made once you get to wherever you're being evaluated, then the four-man teams are assembled at Beacon. She didn't give me any specifics, but they take a bunch of stuff into consideration: performance, leadership, deference, draft standing– ah! Speaking of which, how do you feel about yours?"

"…" Yang grumbled.

"Come again?"

"…It sucks."

Mocha laughed unsurely. "It's not that bad… come on now. You're in the top ten!"

"Sixth overall is bullshit!" raged Yang. "If we made it out of the first round, I would've been _at least _top three! I've been robbed! _Robbed!_"

Mocha blinked. "You must be really mad at Jaune then, huh?"

The blonde sighed. "Nah, I'm over him catching the L. He's probably in the same boat as me."

Her friend didn't know what to say right away. Slowly, as if diffusing an active bomb, she clarified, "You haven't seen the draft standings yet, have you?"

This was Patch, after all. The boonies got information long after it reached the City proper.

"They're out? I guess that's where you heard about my ranking…"

There was her answer, then. Mocha sighed. "Jaune's number one."

"The _fuck?_"

Jaune would not have a good time the next they met.

XX

WHACK.

WHACK.

TING!

"Again."

WHACK.

TING!

TING!

TING!

"…Again."

TING!

TING!

…

TING!

Pyrrha jumped back and took a gulp of air. Miló's Javelin form was held shakily in front of her.

"You're tiring, Pyrrha."

Her stance tightened immediately. Akoúo̱ shot up from where it weighed at her side to protect her center of mass.

"…That will be enough for today."

She relaxed. Sheathing her weapons, she bowed and spoke, "Thank you for the lesson, Father."

The man in front of her nodded. "Of course. I'm pleased with the effort you are putting into our spars; you have learned much from your lapse in performance."

"Of course, Father."

He gestured to the door leading out of the private dojo and walked towards it. "Come. Let's have breakfast."

Pyrrha smiled, despite her visible fatigue.

She had been training harder than usual since her return to Phthia. After learning that she'd ended up second overall, she knew that Jaune had the last laugh despite her victory. Naturally, she couldn't let that happen.

It would be rude to allow her rival to pull ahead in such an uncontested fashion.

Naturally, her father was in wholehearted support for the change in pace. He was prepared to lecture her for her "failure", as he'd put it, but he knew that words weren't needed once he caught on to her intentions.

She had already learned her "lesson".

There were no excuses to be made. Blathering about useless things such as "Rigged results" or "Poor choices on the part of the proctors" was not appreciated nor tolerated within the Nikos family. If she fell anywhere below _number one_, it was simply because she wasn't able to win convincingly enough.

Of course, the final moments of her bout with Jaune Arc was not a pretty sight. Far from a "convincing" performance, many glaring holes in her presented image of supposed "perfection" were brought to light on a public stage.

Simply put, her efforts were currently being put towards "perfecting perfection".

Her father, an enormous man sporting a bald head and jet-black kingly beard, took a seat at the head of the family's dining room table and motioned for her to take the one next to his. Sitting across wouldn't be proper, since the table itself was a good ten meters long.

They entertained a lot of guests.

Once they were both in place, a man in a bright white robe appeared before them followed by a trio of chefs.

"Lord Peleus, Lady Pyrrha. Good morning," greeted the robed man. "Will Madam Thetis be joining us?"

"No, Cedalion, she will not," replied the head of the house. "Thetis is still resting, and there is no need to wake her."

Pyrrha almost laughed. Her mother conceded much in her marriage to her father, but waking up before six in the morning was not one of those things.

The robed man bowed, and the chefs brought out their breakfast. Bowls of muesli were placed in front of them, topped with a variety of fruits and nuts. The simple dish was accompanied by a lush garden salad.

"Tell me, Pyrrha," began Peleus once they were left alone. "This boy… Jaune Arc. Is he the reason you wish to attend Beacon over Haven?"

"Yes, Father," she answered directly.

"I see. An understandable choice, then," the man commended. "When the opportunity to improve one's self is presented, it is wise to face the hydra head-on, not turn it away. I would have done the same in your shoes."

"Thank you, Father."

"What can you tell me about him?"

Pyrrha tilted her head by the slightest of margins. "I beg your pardon, Father?"

"I have not attended your matches in person since the first, and as such, I have nothing but second-hand information to judge the outcome of the semifinal. It goes without saying that a recording doesn't tell the whole story," the man admitted without any regret in his voice. "Though the _results_ would indicate that I was wrong to believe your path to victory would be met without resistance, I can't say that I see where my beliefs were wrong in retrospect. Arc must have been something outside of the scope of my predictions, for him to have pushed you the way he did."

"…He is…" she tried to gather a suitable thought. "He is powerful."

"That wasn't in doubt."

The man's daughter shook her head. "I chose my words poorly. He is indeed naturally gifted physically, but what stood apart most of all was his conviction… or his mindset, rather."

"Oh?" Peleus grew interested.

"He was 'unrelenting', would be the best word. Most opponents that I fight become… _discouraged _when I push for control of the battle. Jaune, on the other hand, he…"

Pyrrha wriggled her nose. She lost herself in her own analysis of the encounter before finishing, "He didn't let me 'push'. No matter what I did, at no point did he think that he could not win."

"Hn," grunted Peleus. His thin smile denoted his satisfaction with the answer. "A most quintessential brood of the Arc family. I'm beginning to see what trail of thought would lead the headmasters to value him over you."

Hearing her father say that made Pyrrha feel something that she couldn't quite place. It wasn't a good feeling, per se, but neither was it an ill-intentioned one.

It was a _pure _feeling.

"How long before initiation, Father?"

"The flight to Haven is in two weeks, but I'll take you there personally," he replied.

Though she wouldn't be staying, Mistral wanted to keep her around for as long as possible.

"I will press to double the intensity of my training until then," she stated. It was not something she announced lightly, because the Nikos family took these sorts of statements quite literally.

Though some would call it an impossible task, she would find a way to increase her productivity by one hundred percent.

Peleus smiled proudly.

"I would expect nothing less from you, Daughter."

XX

As always, Jaune was the last one to step off the bullhead. He allowed all other initiates to exit the aircraft before him as he took his time to gather his wits. He would _not _projectile vomit all over the interior of the multi-million lien transport.

His semblance could protect him from many things, but unfortunately, his terrible motion sickness was not one of those things.

He would rather _not_ share that particular issue of his with the world, if he could help it.

Now stripped of the protection of the bullhead's regulated interior lighting, his eyes were forced to adjust to Vacuo's intense and biting sun. His hand came over top to protect them as he tried to make out what was in front of him.

The first and most visible figure was Shade Academy's gargantuan structure, followed by the surrounding flora which provided an unexpectedly nice contrast with the desert landscape. As he could now personally attest, the academy was, in fact, built on an oasis.

The private airstrip on which his bullhead landed was not alone. There were two landed a hundred or so meters away, and a third could be seen descending with its landing gear in place. If Jaune were to guess, the other bullheads were for the Atlesian, Mistralian, and Vacuan students respectively.

The blonde took a moment to probe over the heads of those around him. Unfortunately, there wasn't anyone he recognized.

**"All initiates, direct your attention this way. Come closer too, so that you can all hear me."**

The quiet muttering amongst those familiar with each other came to a halt. The students-to-be followed the sound of the voice to find a man standing at the junction where the landing pad met the school's walkway. A portable loudspeaker was held up to his mouth.

As they approached, everyone could get a clearer view of the man.

His hair was peculiar, though far from the strangest Jaune had ever seen. It was a dark blue in colour, a mullet pulled into a long ponytail. His outfit matched, though most would go as far as to call it plain-looking. It was a jumpsuit with little armour other than a pair of silver pauldrons.

**"I'm the professor in charge of one of four simultaneously-run entrance exams. Unless you manage to pass and just so happen to be one of Shade's invitees, you won't have to worry about anything more than that. If you feel like you need to ask a question, just call me "Professor". That said, any questions so far?"**

…

**"Good. Excuse me for the short notice, but I'll go ahead and get right into the structure of this exam."**

The man cleared his throat.

**"Everyone's getting back in the bullheads, and we're dropping you off in the desert in groups of two in random locations. Your objective is to find your way back here in twelve hours. Preferably alive and in one piece. There're only so many spots available for each school, so the ones to pass will be the first forty duos of prospects for each academy, for a total of three hundred and twenty examinees getting through out of the twelve hundred being evaluated.**

Murmurs erupted amongst the crowd, but there were no cries of outrage. Though it was disheartening to hear that so many students would be let go after being invited to an already-limited "tryout", everyone understood the exclusivity of a huntsman academy.

**"There aren't many rules, so be sure to remember them," **continued the professor. **"Try not to kill anyone. We'll be watching you with drones."**

"…"

There was a shared silence as the attentive students waited for him to continue.

He didn't.

"Professor! Can we attack other duos to slow them down?" shouted someone near the middle.

**"I guess so. Any other questions?"**

The prospects were catching on that "try not to kill anyone" really was the only rule.

Jaune lifted his hand out of habit. When he realised that he wasn't going to be pointed out he blushed and spoke, "Are the partnerships going to carry over into our huntsman teams?"

The professor snapped his fingers. **"I guess I should have made that more clear. Yes, your partner here will be your partner for however long your time as a huntsman-in-training lasts– be it four years or just the next few hours. Don't worry though, the colleges made sure to match you all up as well as they could."**

He waited a moment longer for another question.

**"Okay! Run along now."**

Being dismissed, the applicants returned to the bullheads they arrived in, and all four took off within the next five to ten minutes. It wasn't long before Shade Academy's airstrip was vacated, leaving the professor alone in the area.

Another man stepped into sight next to the professor.

"Theo," greeted the professor casually. The loudspeaker was dropped to his waist. "Nice to see you finally showed up. I didn't enjoy my role as an orator, in case you were wondering."

The man didn't answer directly, but he did flash an amused smile. "So? Did you spot mister First-Overall?

The blue-haired professor scoffed. "I still think you're crazy for taking a first-round bump over Nikos."

"That's not what I asked."

"…Yeah, he was there."

"Great!" cheered the other man. "I want cameras on him at all times."

XX

Jaune watched as the flight crew directed certain pairs to jump off the moving aircraft at seemingly random intervals, and had to cover his mouth to keep back bile whenever the ship maneuvered to give the jumpers a better angle. Some onlookers looked nervous for their turn, but Jaune was close to _begging _the crew to let him jump off next.

He was not appreciating how often the bullhead was tilting to the side right now.

The person standing next to him tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the attendant looking at him expectantly. Was he called up? He didn't notice.

He marched up to the side, and seeing as how he wasn't told otherwise, threw himself out the open door. The way down wasn't too bad –only being some twenty or thirty meters to the ground– so he just buckled his knees and let his aura do the rest.

A cloud of dust erupted from his landing spot, so he was forced to walk forward a few paces to regain his vision. When he did, he spotted a black-haired boy who appeared to be around his age.

His partner, apparently.

The blonde put on the friendliest smile that he could muster. Extending a hand, he introduced himself, "Hello! Nice to meet you, I'm–"

"Jaune Arc," finished his partner, catching him off guard. "I'm aware."

With a dim smile, he returned the introduction and shook Jaune's hand. "I'm Ren. Lie Ren."

XX

Yang wasn't having a good day. Or week. Or… you know what? She just wasn't feeling it recently.

This, though? This took the cake.

Yeah, she didn't get the draft ranking she wanted. Whatever. She got over it. Yeah, one of her best friends finessed the top spot even though he _totally _screwed her over, but she'll probably just whoop the shit out of him when they run across each other at Beacon and all will be forgiven.

That said, there was _nothing_ that she could punch that would make her current circumstances any less terrible.

Well, there _was_, but she really shouldn't. The consequences would by far outweigh the rewards.

She sighed. It wasn't even all that bad until just now. The flight to Haven was _fine_. Initiation sounded like it would be _fine_. The speech that Professor Lionheart was giving was _fine_.

Everything was _fine _until they announced who would be partnering up, for like, _the rest of their school life._

"Is something wrong, Yang? Can I help with anything?" her partner asked innocently.

Another sigh.

"It's nothing, Pyrrha. Let's just get this thing rolling."

It really made it hard to stay angry when the object of her ire was so _goddamn nice._


	13. I'm sure we'll be fine (probably)

(A/N) Sorry, everyone. It took me the same number of months to come out with an update as it took Rooster Teeth seasons to come up with an explanation for Cinder's semblance.

Lol jk no shade intended. Tbf I know a lot of people are just as confused with Jaune's semblance in this story (even though I really do have an explanation bro please believe me bro just trust me bro).

But in all seriousness, I blame the delay in part to the volume 8 trailer. As counterintuitive as it sounds, it made me want to write about RWBY _less_. It made me ask myself, "Why do I like this series again?"

Before anyone comes at me about that though, I want to acknowledge that RWBY is objectively a better-written series now than it was in its "golden days" as I like to call it. More than that, any flaws are more a result of it trying to cover its ugly lumps from chapters 1 and 2. I'm in no position to say that I could've done any better (let's be honest some parts of this story are kinda rough lmao).

That said, I just straight-up never liked it for its story. Like many people, what drew me in was the unapologetically over-the-top visuals, designs, and action sequences. Monty (may he rest in peace) and Shane brought a certain flair to it that Rooster Teeth just haven't been able to reproduce without them.

I _thought _I liked the story. I thought, "Wow! There are some super interesting and well-developed characters! They're neat!" But no, in reality, it was just me having read way too many good Coeur Al'Aran stories to the point where the lines between canon and fanon began to blur.

It is with great distress that I admit to myself that I, too, am unable to capture the magic that made me love RWBY in the first place.

Now, what I just said doesn't mean a whole lot since I got over myself and eventually got to writing it anyway, but I just wanted to put this out there (and maybe hear your thoughts on the matter).

_Now as for the actual story (haha.)_

Beacon next chapter! Yay! I'll go ahead and straight up say that I won't be going over the initiation of other characters, but I'll for sure come back to it at later points as it becomes important (some sooner than others).

As for Ren and Jaune being partners... yeah that went over about as well with some of y'all as I thought it would lol. In my defense, I _know _that Jaune and Ren don't have an obvious dynamic. That said, he's supposed to be Jaune's "male friend" in a series with a predominantly female cast, yet he falls to the background very easily. I'll be damned if I'm not able to make "bros" out of them sooner or later.

Don't worry about other characters btw. Your "main cast" will still get plenty of screen time.

Also, I'm kinda surprised no-one mentioned any sightings of a "certain individual" last chapter. Or maybe it was just way too obvious? Idk. It's obvious-er now

Aaaanway that was a little too long-winded. Please enjoy!

XX

"This is pointless," grumbled the blue-haired man. It was clear that it was taking great effort for him to keep his eyes planted on the scroll held in his hands.

Professor Theodore tried and failed to hide his amused smile. He was obviously enjoying his companion's frustration.

"Is it really?" asked the headmaster exaggeratedly. "It's a real shame, then. If _someone _didn't destroy the supply shipment from Atlas, then we'd have state-of-the-art security and surveillance systems set up on campus."

"Is that so?" muttered the headmaster's annoyed aide. His eyebrow twitched. "I doubt this _'someone' _did it on purpose. You should stop holding it over his head."

Theodore sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately, it cannot be so. Until James can send us replacements, this little old school of mine will need a guard dog to look after it."

The fake expression of agony morphed into a teasing smile. "So you better get back to it, Mister Guard Dog."

"Piss off."

Despite the fighting words, the blue-haired man did, in fact, "get back to it".

"…"

"…"

"You really need to find a new way to initiate these kids, you know. Isn't it a waste of fuel to have all of our bullheads make trips through the desert whenever some kid passes out from heatstroke? I don't think a single pair has run into an actual grimm yet."

"Stop trying to get out of this."

"I'm not trying to–"

The blue-haired man paused mid-argument and pressed a button on the side of his scroll. "Get Bullhead C to quadrant thirteen for pickup, please. We've got a few more kiddies looking a little worse for wear."

_"On our way," _the voice on the other end of the comm replied.

"Yeah, thanks."

He pressed the button again and the line was cut.

"How menial. I bet an automated program could do that just fine," offered Theodore.

"Shut up. Just please shut up. I'll–"

The scroll rang, letting its handler know that there was a line opened by one of the bullhead pilots.

The two men looked at each other. Since control of their air traffic was left to a single device, the pilots wouldn't initiate contact outside of an emergency.

The headmaster took hold of the scroll.

"We hear you."

_"Headmaster, you've got a ziraph about to pass through the side of quadrant eight. She's a big one– five, six stories maybe."_

"Shit…" cursed the blue-haired man under his breath. What was something like that doing that close to the academy?

The headmaster of Shade Academy was stone-faced. "If our cameras haven't picked it up, then it isn't anywhere near the drop zones yet. What's its projected path?"

_"It's heading northeast. By the looks of it, the ziraph might clip through quadrant seven before we're in the clear."_

"Are there any students in quadrant seven?" Theodore asked the blue-haired professor, who had been keeping an eye on the initiates' positions.

"…"

"Well?"

"I mean, last I checked…"

X

"Are we even going in the right direction?" asked Jaune uncertainly. He looked left and right, but there wasn't a single identifiable landmark within his field of view. It was just sand, sand, and more sand.

Lie Ren nodded.

"Yes. The bullheads came from this way."

A sigh.

"Alright then."

There wasn't much else Jaune could do other than trust his new partner to lead the way. Since he was indisposed on the flight out to wherever it was that they were dropped off, he didn't really pay attention to the route taken by the pilot.

He was thankful for the other boy's presence. Were he on his own, he would have probably taken off in the wrong direction.

"…"

"…"

They continued their trek wordlessly, and the blonde couldn't help but feel as though he should fill the silence somehow. They hadn't run into any dangers, and they were keeping a good pace, so what better way was there to kill the boredom than to get to know each other a little better?

…Or something like that.

"So, uh…"

Ren's head tilted his way, anticipating another question of some sort.

"I…" trailed off the Arc boy. He started talking without actually thinking of something to say. "Never mind."

His companion in green smiled faintly. "You're not at all what I thought you'd be like," he admitted.

"Hm? What do you mean?" asked Jaune.

"You're a lot more imposing on TV."

Jaune blushed, not knowing whether to feel embarrassed or offended. "I– uhm, sorry about that, I suppose."

Ren shook his head. "No, don't be. It's a pleasant surprise."

"Is it?"

Jaune couldn't understand why. He was being all but told that he wasn't living up to whatever image he had painted of himself.

"Of course. You're very… _normal_. In a good way."

"In a 'good way'?" Jaune repeated.

"Of course," Lie Ren's lips thinned, his expression resembling a smile– maybe even a teasing one. "After all, I'd be in a tough position if I needed to deal with my partner's 'bigger than life' attitude for four straight years. 'Normal' sounds much better, wouldn't you say?"

"Ah, well, when you put it that way…"

RUMBLE

"Hm?"

The pair found themselves needing to steady their feet as the sand beneath them shifted.

Jaune's brows scrunched. "What was that?"

RUMBLE

They braced themselves once more, only this time they needed to lean off of each other for support. The shaking was more intense.

Ren let go with a sigh.

"Whatever it is, it's getting closer. We should–"

**RUMBLE**

This time, they really _were _dropped onto their rears. Not too far out, a large figure was visible, albeit distorted by the heat.

…A _very _large figure.

"Is that a grimm?" Jaune asked uncertainly. Fighting people was one thing, but his encounters with grimm were few and far in between.

"Probably," agreed the long-haired boy. "Grab my arm. I'll use my semblance to keep us hidden."

"You can do that?" asked Jaune, visibly skeptical.

Ren was of the school of thought that actions were more meaningful than words. He grabbed the tournament fighter's shoulder and watched as color literally left his body.

Jaune opened his mouth to say something, then his body nearly went slack. Instead, he shared, "I feel…"

"Nothing?"

"Calm. I was going to say calm."

"My semblance is called _Tranquility_," Ren explained. "it masks negative emotions, so grimm shouldn't be able to find us. It's like a ghillie suit."

"A… what?"

"Think of it as grimm camouflage."

"Oh. Okay."

Feeling safe for the most part, the pair returned to a comfortable pace.

"Hey, Ren?"

The huntsman-hopeful acknowledged his new comrade with a tilt of the head.

"Is it just me, or is that thing not really getting any farther away?

Ren about-faced and squinted, trying to make out any of the silhouette's details.

"…Let's go."

"What?"

He let go of the blonde's shoulder, and the effects of his semblance left them.

"Let's go! We have to go _now_!"

By the urgency in his voice, Jaune deduced that now probably wasn't the best time to start asking questions. If the first emotion that his new partner broadcasted openly was panic, then it was likely wasn't without reason.

They ran with Ren at the lead, though their pace was slowed by the unsteady ground.

Barely moments later, any traces of the black-haired boy's unease disappeared without a trace– almost unnaturally so. Jaune felt like he had a suitable opportunity to start asking about what it was that they were running from.

"What is that thing!?"

Ren grimaced. Between pants, he answered, "It's…"

X

Theodore wore a grave expression. His fingers were wrapped around the scroll in his hands so tightly that the handle casing began to creak.

"What kind of terrible luck _is this_? What are the odds of something like a ziraph popping up _here _of all places? We cleared the perimeter of any serious threats before bringing the students in for initiation, didn't we? _Damn it_. A pair of academy hopefuls isn't going to be able to take one of those things down on their own."

"Think they'll stay alive long enough for backup to get there?" asked the blue-haired man over his shoulder.

Theodore's nervousness slipped away for a moment to make way for a blank stare.

"…It's you. _You're _the backup."

"What? Oh."

"Why are you still here!?" yelled the headmaster. "Call back a bullhead and get out there!"

X

The rumbling stopped. Jaune chanced a look over his shoulder and found a motionless, three-headed skyscraper looking their way from a kilometer or so behind them.

"I think it sees us."

The quiet one clenched his teeth.

"We don't have much time, then. We need to pick up the pace."

Before Jaune could ask for a clarification, the rumbling started again. The time between tremors decreased drastically.

Looking back once more, Jaune noticed that the giant was a little closer than it was before.

"We're not going to outrun it," remarked the blonde. "We need to fight."

Ren took a moment before coming up with a reply.

"I'm sure it's not something you need to worry about back in Vale, but…anyone from around these parts knows that _you don't fight ziraphs_."

"You're from Vacuo, then?"

"Well-travelled!" came the clipped response. "Still not the time! It'll be on us any–"

Feeling a change in wind pressure, Jaune grabbed his partner and jumped to the side. Not an instant later, a giant object came crashing on top of where they previously stood and sent them hurtling away along with the sand it had displaced.

Rubbing the debris from his eyes, Jaune caught a clearer sight of their assailant.

"Hey, Ren? I think I agree with you. I don't want to fight that thing anymore."

The 'ziraph', as Ren called it, looked like a horrendous parody of a giraffe. It was tall enough to dwarf most buildings, along with three heads covered by a spiky carapace.

As one, all three heads turned and leered at them.

One of its limbs –no, a tongue– came down on them ballistically. Jaune stepped forward and took the blow with crossed arms. He was forced back a few paces, but the nature of his aura and semblance prevented any sort of injury.

What he was not counting on, however, was the tongue to wrap itself around his body in an attempt to drag him back into one of its mouths.

"Shit!"

His arms were held tightly to his sides, so he wasn't in a good position to force his way out. He would thankfully not be vored by the three-headed giraffe monster, however, as a flurry of bullets hitting the bottom of the tongue disturbed it enough for him to slip through its grasp.

"Thanks for the save," the Arc breathed out. He was a little rattled, but he ignored the feeling and drew _Luminosité Éternelle _from its sheath.

Ren lowered his bladed twin pistols and nodded wordlessly.

"Say… you're the expert on these things, right? Got any suggestions that can help us stay alive?"

"I'm not…" Ren sighed. "Never mind. The best we can do is avoid its–"

"Head!"

The duo was forced to scatter in order to avoid an oversized and much-too-lethal skull bash.

Jaune saw an opening and reacted on instinct. _Luminosité Éternelle _switched into its polearm form while his semblance wrapped itself around his body.

Ren, wide-eyed, shouted out once he realized what his partner was about to do, "You can't! It's neck plates are too strong!"

The warning came too late, and the blade came down with a swing.

To Ren's surprise, it cut into the neck.

To Jaune's surprise, it didn't sever the head.

**"ROAAAAR!"**

The grimm recoiled in pain while the two student-hopefuls recoiled from the assault on their eardrums. That said, they recovered commendably and booked it while the creature was distracted.

"I'm going to use my semblance to hide us again," Ren announced.

Jaune's first instinct was to question if that would really do anything. Grimm were _supposed _to be attracted by negative emotions, but this one managed to track them down just fine.

This wasn't the time to be asking questions.

"Got it."

The pair ran awkwardly with their arms locked at the elbow. For a moment, it seemed as though they had managed to get away safely; it wasn't chasing them anymore, rather, it was just standing in a daze. Was it a fluke that it had followed them the first time?

No. No, it wasn't.

The creature's two uninjured heads jerked violently, their tongues shooting out at the two with the intent to maul. It was all that they could do to throw themselves away from each other to avoid the hit.

Ren coughed up whatever dust and sand that made its way into his windpipe. He didn't yell, but he was visibly angry.

Jaune, the sturdier of the two, ran up to him and dragged him up to his feet.

"Are you alright?"

"…Sorry. My semblance is useless here."

Admitting as much seemed to rattle the boy for reasons that Jaune didn't have the time nor the intention to question.

"Don't worry about it." Jaune locked gazes with the stilled ziraph. "We need to figure something out if we don't want to die though. I dunno 'bout you, but I can't afford to let things end for me here. I've got people counting on me."

Once more, Ren smiled thinly. "Yes. Someone I know would be quite angry if I didn't even make it through initiation."

It all escalated so quickly. This was just supposed to be some sort of entrance exam, right? One moment they were worried about their grade dropping if they took too long to get back to the academy, and the next they were wondering if they'd live to see tomorrow. It was comical in a very morbid kind of way.

"Can it stay alive without all three of its heads?" asked the blonde.

Ren shook his head. "I don't know. Like I said, I know _about _ziraphs, but I'm no expert."

Jaune sighed. "We'll have to hope it can't then. I think I'll be able to cut off the injured one if I'm able to reach it."

"We'll need to force the ziraph to use it then. It's favouring its tongues right now."

Driving the point home. They were forced to dance around a series of sudden and violent tongue lashes.

Displaying agility and nimbleness that Jaune couldn't hope to match, Ren emptied one of his clips into an offending tongue mid-roll. While the other two organs retracted instantly, the damaged one was slow to move.

"Jaune!"

"I got it!"

Not trusting his feet on the unsteady surface beneath them, Jaune launched himself on top of the tongue with an empowered leap. Ren thought that he would try to cut it off, but _Luminosité Éternelle _instead found itself pinning the tissue to the ground. The sand didn't offer much perch, but the weapon was buried down to the last few inches of its pole.

Still, it wouldn't hold for long. Jaune ran up the tongue and let the Arc family semblance envelop him.

"Weapon!" he yelled down to his partner.

Immediately, a pistol was thrown up to him. The grimm's other two heads tried to intercept the volley, but they were forced away by the gunfire of its twin.

Jaune had no clue how to use Ren's weapon properly, but he _did _know how to use the pointy end. As hard as it may be on the outside, the _inside _of its gaping maw looked awfully squishy.

The Arc clenched his core, ready to deliver the critical blow.

"One down– what!?"

The monster bit its own tongue off, leaving Jaune to fall without anything solid beneath his feet. The injured head was now _too _injured to do anything, but the same couldn't be said about the other two heads. They didn't bother with the tongues, instead intending to tear him apart with their teeth.

"Jaune!"

Ren tried shooting at them, but the heads just brushed off the attack. The ziraph was going in for the kill.

And it almost got away with it, too.

"I gotcha, kid!"

Jaune's descent was accelerated by a weight crashing into him from above, making the two heads whiff their shot and bite into thin air.

He expected a hard impact with the ground to take the wind out of him, but instead, he was caught.

"Thanks for the save," he breathed out.

"No problem."

Hm? That wasn't Ren's voice. He cocked his head back and spotted his partner looking at him with visible relief some ways away.

So that meant…

He looked up to whoever it was that was holding him in their arms.

"You! The professor?"

The blue-haired man smirked. "Sorry 'bout this. We didn't mean for this big guy to come after you guys like that. Honest! Although, I've got to say you gave the big bastard a good rattling. Good job, kiddoes."

He looked up to the clearly injured giraffe-shaped grimm and laughed.

Jaune's eyebrow twitched and a twinge of pink crossed his cheeks. "Could you put me down, please?"

"Eh?"

The blue-haired man looked down at the kid he was still holding in a bridal carry and started to laugh again. "Sorry, Sorry! Would it be less emasculating for you if I were a pretty girl?"

No, it probably wouldn't be.

Ren interrupted them with a yell, "Here it comes!"

The two remaining tongues descended upon the unprepared teacher-student pair.

Jaune was dropped unceremoniously onto the sand. The man took out his weapon and sliced off both tongues faster than either boy could blink.

He made a show of rolling his shoulders. "Man, it's good to get some exercise after being cooped up in that damn office all week. Hah… Oh well.

The professor pointed up the bullhead, which neither Jaune nor Ren had noticed until now. It dropped a ladder over their heads

"The ziraph can't do jack to a flying bullhead without a tongue. We're cleared to ride back to Shade without any further interruptions."

"Wait! What about the other initiates– and the exam!" Jaune countered.

The blue-haired man gave him his best "are you an idiot?" face.

"Is not-dying not enough for you, kid?"

Despite his words, the man looked at the cautious-yet-angry ziraph contemplatively.

"Tell ya what. I was gonna leave this thing be, but if you two're willing to give me backup, then it should go down without a hassle. I'll even give you full marks on initiation. How's that sound?"

Jaune looked to Ren, who nodded. Once more, they drew their weapons.

"Deal!"

The man's grin became vulpine.

"The thing's dangerous, but it's more manageable the less heads it has. Let's start by finishing off the half-dead one."

Jaune gulped. There went his hopes that the thing would die if it lost a single head.

"Gloomy! Shoot the other two!"

Ren pointed to himself, causing the man to roll his eyes. "Yes, you. Get them angry."

He didn't need to be asked again. The ziraph's crowns were pelleted by a rain of bullets.

"Muscle-brain, you've got the Arc semblance, don't you? How comfortable are you with the idea of parrying a five-tonne stomper?"

Jaune almost pouted at the nickname, but then processed what was being asked.

"What?"

He unfortunately learned why he'd be needing to do so fairly quickly. While the ziraph's heads were kept busy by the relatively ineffective yet bothersome assault, it needed to rely on other methods to kill them. The method chosen was apparently to rush forward and trample them with its feet.

Ren and Jaune went bug-eyed.

"That's all you, kid!" shouted the professor uselessly.

Jaune clenched his teeth and tried to channel as much of his semblance as he could. He stepped in front of the other two combatants and took on both of the creature's hooves with crossed arms.

Despite the predicament, the professor whistled. "That super Arc whatever-it-is is the real deal. Keep shooting Gloomy!"

The man got down in a three-point stance. His weapon –an odd-looking spear– was held under-arm.

The professor had an open target, but it was too far away. Guns didn't do much, either. What was he–

He pounced. One moment he was on the ground, the next he was in the air behind the ziraph's newly-severed head.

His grin turned predatory as the humongous monster shrieked in agony.

"One more for the trip back!"

As he fell, the man threw his spear right through the skull of one of the two remaining heads. The force behind the throw was enough to force the lifeless protrusion forward and pin it into the ground at the students' feet.

Neither could keep their jaws up. It couldn't have taken the man more than a second to take out both.

The professor landed on his second mark and removed his spear from it with a theatrical twirl. The final head, enraged past the point of reason, came down on him with every intention of eating him whole.

He didn't look worried.

"Last one's yours, kids!"

They didn't have much time to react, but the pair managed anyway. Ren threw one of his pistols at the grimm's maw, momentarily surprising Jaune when it came back like a boomerang.

It was stunned for an instant. The blonde lifted his weapon once more –now as a sword– and jabbed it into the monster's exposed eye.

X

Headmaster Theodore ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. Across from his desk stood the blue-haired professor and his "little helpers" a few paces behind him.

"Tell me again why you fought the ziraph instead of coming straight back like I had asked?"

In an attempt to be helpful, Jaune explained, "The professor told us that we would get passing grades even though we were brought back early if we helped him kill the grimm."

"And now it can't go after the other initiates," added Ren.

Theodore looked at the other man pointedly for a moment.

"…"

"…"

"Dumbass!" He yelled, the headmaster leaning over his desk and grabbing the other professor by his ponytail. "What kind of bullshit excuses did you give these kids!? You just wanted to start a fight!"

"You're just jealous cuz you didn't get to fight it yourself!" was the man's counterargument as he tried to pry off Shade Academy's leader's hands off of his mane. "Besides, I was getting antsy!"

"Uh, so we weren't going to get dropped from the academy program?" Jaune trailed off, unsure if he was willing to interrupt the man who tore up a giant grimm in seconds and the shit brick house that was manhandling him.

The muscular man dropped the ponytail with a grunt. "No, due to extenuating circumstances, we would have passed you anyway. There was no need for you to slay it."

"Wouldn't it be dangerous if it were left alone?" Ren asked.

"No. The idiot over here was just supposed to sever its tongues. After that, we were going to send a bullhead over to carpet bomb its general location. I'm sorry that he's such a battle maniac."

"You're worse than I am!"

"Shut up already!"

Jaune and Ren sweatdropped. They were arguing again.

The headmaster coughed. "Never mind that. We called you here because I wanted to apologize."

The two students looked at each other. Neither was really expecting an apology.

"Something like a ziraph was never supposed to show up here. We thought that your landing zones had been cleared of anything larger than a fully-grown deathstalker before your arrival, but this one somehow slipped past our notice."

The blue-haired man didn't say anything to the contrary despite knowing that it wasn't entirely true. Unmotivated as he was, he wouldn't miss something as obvious as a ziraph. It had quite literally come out of nowhere.

Jaune scratched the back of his head and laughed weakly. "I mean, no one died, so…"

Startling him, the headmaster laughed along with him, although much more boisterously. " I suppose that's true. Regardless, please accept our apology. Moreover, congratulations on your acceptance to Beacon Academy."

They were both handed personal ID cards– warm to the touch, they were probably just printed.

Jaune smiled.

That's right. He'd made it.

"The bullheads will be taking the initiates back home later tomorrow. For tonight, we'll lend you our dorm rooms. An attendant will show you the way."

The headmaster waved to the two rag-tag-looking individuals standing near the doorway, smiling as they waved back.

Almost in sync, Jaune and Ren bowed.

"Thanks for everything!"

"Thank you."

They paused, noticing they'd reacted similarly, and chuckled softly. They followed the attendants out of the room.

As he crossed the doorframe, Jaune paused and turned around. He asked the professor who had originally stepped in to save them, "I'm sorry… we never caught your name. What should we call you?"

The blue-haired man huffed. "Don't call me anything."

Headmaster Theodore slapped his knee. "That's right! He's just a guard dog!"

Once more, the pair wrestled over the desk. Judging by the lack of reaction from either of the attendants, it must have been a relatively regular occurrence.

That was their cue to leave, then.

Ah. Maybe there was one more thing that he should say.

"Hey, Ren."

"Hm?"

"Let's get along, these next few years," he finished with a bright smile. He outstretched his hand for the other boy to grab.

Ren took a moment to reciprocate, but when he did, he did so with a gentle smile of his own.

"I don't think that will be a problem."


End file.
